Nelly - Real Niggaz Lyrics
Chorus - nelly) 2xReal niggas ride wit usYou haters gotta ride the busSmoke til when my brain gon bustBank account so plush, the feds on usReal niggas ride wit us (and dime ladies)You haters gotta ride the bus (we drop crazy)Smoke til when my brain gon bustBank account so plush, the feds on us(kyjuan)Kyjuans a preppy hippy, cross the bridgy of mississippiI slang thangs, make bread, easy like jiffyCall me a cool nigga or a mr. refrigerKids ask me (mr. can you get crunk and jiggy? )I reply quickly, bottle of andres or crissySmoke backyard or sticky, my man, watch me get busyI wake up with two dimes, both named nikkiIm a playa dirty, no passion marks, no hickiesCats make me sick when I roll through yall cityLookin like angry mad, face mad, teeth grittyYou gon make me go back into my days of u-cityCornrows, penny bros and new dickiesAhh shit, when situation looks shittyI got that thang with me, plus I puff like diddyYou niggas cant hang with me, or pop the pain with meSo wrap somethin mo and hop in the range with me(ali)Check, checkNo picture me rollin, optimo, glocka four-fourFour-do range rov, mink with matchin kangolWhole hood like oh, freakin em out they mindDs with diamonds on em, jackers, I know they want emNot, you see the watch, rollie or g-shotYou hear me four, five blocks before you see me, thats the knockI need not speak on that, I speak on zackAnd how he better fix my shit or give my eight gs backSalute the rugged, flip screen, you gotta love itNavigational system behind the ten, duckin the publicTake my chain off to thaw out, battle four outWe fill, the fattest wad a hunneds you ever saw outSon break the jar out, twist the muskieOnly real niggas ride and smoke, patna trust meIf Im lyin, bad mouth, slap then crush meCuss me, suplex lamb, grab the nine and bust mecause only....(chorus)(nelly)Im like the battery, I come through every door on a cell (duracell)Mr. energizer, forever ready to make a mil***** that cris, let it spill, I hit the gas, and make it peelIm smokin twenty inches of parelli, wha, up off the wheelI hit the jewelry store at noon, slight case of the chillsI got the face too damn chunky cause its still read twelveWell hell, not a shit starter but I be startin some shitHalf the time Im in the club, half the niggas gettin pissedMe, got they miss, I done, caught they wristAnd they be thinkin you *****blockin cause you gave her a kissI walks over to your ***** and asks her whos is this?(yours nelly)Tell em one more time just in case he forgetsI be the sleepy eyed, kinky guy, the chinky eyeComin be like i, ay, ei, ready the guyNigga hella high, country grammar, yellin ei!*****in your cutie pie, forty-nine, not gettin none(murphy lee)You shoulda seen this ladies face when I walked in the bankIm the school boy, Im hollywood, smellin like dankLookin like I dont know left from rightHoldin a check, got the whole front desk like murphys set for life!I agree wit em, I exchange sacks with seeds in emDrivin eighty in the rainiest rov, tvs in emIm st. lou, plus true to the arch equals Im realIm hollywood, plus true to the heart equals a milIm killin yall, matter fact Im killin myselfIn a category with t-boz, Im feelin myselfIt gets no better, slo says it gotta get betterGotta get wood, gotta get dubs, we gotta get leatherIm like, what, real playas roll on dubs (lunatics like)And haters cant kick it wit us (and our blunts tight)We smokin til our brain gon bustGettin head in the back of the truck, city what upIm like only....(chorus) 2x
