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young jeezy - the realist lyrics
“the realist”
[young jeezy: talking]
ride on these n-gg-z
i ride on these n-gg-z
i ride on these n-gg-z (hahaaa)
i ride on these n-gg-z
let’s get it!
[verse 1: young jeezy]
super charger, the same color as pj
(yeaaaaah) i got a champagne range
pick n-gg-z off, i got a night-scope aim (bah)
audio, video, you caught on tape
that’s a way to get ya -ss sent upstate (dayyyum)
in ‘9-ay! i took them trips down to lauderdale
back and forth, like aliyah
chances of gettin’ rich is like one-in-a-million
(hahaaaaa) or more like two-in-a-billion
flashin’ lights, my mind’s playin’ tricks on me
but the minuteman still do tricks on me
swear the feds just starin’ at a n-gg-
you know, you feelin’ ya heart fall into ya feet
summertime n-gg-z still ridin’ with the heat
jeezy de niro, snowman pacino
real n-gg-z love me because i talk that lingo
[hook: young jeezy]
and i’m the muhf-ckin’ realist…
they lies, they phonies, they fakes,
these n-gg-z ain’t never sold the weight
and i’m the muhf-ckin’ realist…
they lies, they phonies, they fakes,
these n-gg-z ain’t never sold the weight
and i’m the muhf-ckin’ realist…
they lies, they phonies, they fakes,
these n-gg-z ain’t never touched the weight
and i’m the muhf-ckin’ realist…
they lies, they phonies, they fakes,
these n-gg-z ain’t never touched the weight
and i’m the muhf-ckin’ realist…
[verse 2: young jeezy]
nowadays the gt’s glock black (cheaaa!)
the shoes on that motherf-cking 3-80 chrome
gotta be careful what you say on the phone
i’m 36 o’s away
from givin’ the mic up and goin’ back to the streets (naww)
what’s the difference, i still eat the same
a n-gg- paranoid, i still sleep the same
you n-gg-z rappin’ ’bout blow, like it’s a fad
n-gg- this is my life, i ain’t tryna set trends
’cause everybody knows how that brick-road ends
heartless, maybe i need to see the wizard
until then, imma make it snow blizzards
[hook]
[verse 3: young jeezy]
i stay on the block, and risk my life
day in and day out until a n-gg- sold out
you n-gg-z playin’, i show you what that street sh-t ’bout
hit you right up with them thangs, and come back with the chains
might cook it in the stove, might cook it in the microwave
either way it’s gonna sell, still weigh it on the scale
you rappin’–ss n-gg-z ain’t never sold no yams
i’m talkin’ sucka-free sundays and iced-out mondays
pin-up tuesdays and body-tap wednesdays
you was in the studio, i was on the block
in the kitchen at the spot goin’ hard with the blocks
25 for the four ways, choppaz by the door-ways
[hook]
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