Songtexte Real Talk - Ice-T feat. Kryst

Yo, who's that fly nigga rockin' the mic?
Hold up, no, it can't be, but it sound like
I thought that nigga left the game years ago
I seen him in People Mag' with some bad white ho
I seen him flossin' whips on the cover of Dub
Then I seen him with some Arabs in the back of the club
I heard every word that he says is real
He used to take young bitches and he teach 'em to steal
Heard he pimped with The Bishop, played the whole bubble
For all the raw yayo, made it come back double
I met him once, nigga shot me the real
He said, "Get your paper, player, fuck how they feel"
Mink to the ankles, baby, gator to the flow
Respect real niggas, never trust a ho
When you bust, squeeze the trigger 'til the motherfucker glow
Then he said his name was Ice, and he hit the do'
That's real talk

Real talk, real talk, real talk, real talk
That's real talk, real talk, real talk
That's real talk, real talk, real talk, real talk
That's real talk, real talk, real talk

I heard he went to Crenshaw, rolled with the Crips
I heard he made millions hittin' jewelry licks
Then I heard that the nigga had roots in the East
I heard the nigga's whole motherfuckin' fam's deceased
He started all that shit 'bout "Fuck the police"
He really don't care, carries gats in pairs
I know he's in his forties, I was just a child
When the nigga came out and sent the game buckwild
Real niggas know that he's not no joke
Black Raiders beanie and them liquor store locs
Not to even mention his folks
Cali niggas hittin' switches on them hundred spoke
I read in an interview, he said he was done
Then he comes with this fly shit back on the one
But I heard he's never happy, and the nigga's so sick
That he jacks off for money, then he fucks his bitch
That's real talk

Real talk, real talk, real talk, real talk
That's real talk, real talk, real talk
That's real talk, real talk, real talk, real talk
That's real talk, real talk, real talk

Got a reputation to uphold
'Cause in the streets, I gotta get it ice cold
And that's real talk, real talk, real talk, real talk
Mmm, mmm, mmm, yeah yeah yeah, ho

The blonde's name is Coco, and she carries a gat
Green eyes, big titties, and her ass is fat
Glued to the nigga, not impressed with rap
Suicide if he try, 'cause she covers his back
Seen him once in a jam, no posse, no crew
Coco wears a mean shoe, it was just them two
They chilled in the back, we all knew it was true
They was doin' it the way that we all wanted to do
I heard the nigga don't sleep for days
Writes poetry all night and read Shakespearean plays
No clothes off the rack, everything is made
Don't drink hard liquor, just grape Kool-Aid
Straight gangsta, but he got no beef
Nobody talkin' down on his name in the street
His shit's airtight, and his game's elite
He's just the type of player that I aim to be
That's real talk

Real talk, real talk, real talk, real talk
That's real talk, real talk, real talk
That's real talk, real talk, real talk, real talk
That's real talk, real talk, real talk

Got my name in the street
Talkin' about me, sayin' how much they love me
They know I'm an O.G. to this game
'Cause everywhere I go, I keep hearin' my name
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Gotta keep it gangsta, woo-hoo
Gotta keep it gangsta

Got a reputation to uphold
'Cause in the streets, I gotta get it ice cold
And that's real talk, real talk, real talk, real talk
Mmm, mmm, mmm, yeah yeah yeah, ho