Camoflauge

Dat Real Shit
[Camoflauge:] Goddamn! [Hook] It's that real shit, Huh? That real shit, What? That real shit, And you can tell? Cause flies all around it It's that real shit, What? That real shit, Huh? That real shit, And you can tell? Cause flies all around it [Verse] Man its that real shit (Smell that!) I bet you won't (inhale that!) Too long cause its strong like some weed outta ? Y'all niggaz know what it is Boy ain't yo mamma told you bout playin with them project kids! But you don't listen, now yo ass missin For runnin yo fuckin mouth, and knowin you ain't no competition I glisnin like diamonds, they rippin up shit when I'm rhyming, Just like the sun I'm shinin, top of the charts is where I'm climbin A red light means STOP! I run that shit! Got niggaz fiendin for some good dope Gotta come back and get! Another hit of that bomb ass music Shit don't love the way I do it! Letras de canciones [Hook: x2] [Verse] I'm ragin, cause niggaz hatin, cause we makin, Mail out the ass better ask somebody I'm blazin Hot like fire nigga , you don't wanna try this nigga! Picture me rollin like 4 rims and 4 tires nigga! I'm bad like Michael... Jackson, Jordan, your pick But any way you look at it I'm still the shit! My click bringin em' pain! Rapin' the game! Livin that life! Lovin the fame! I'm fuckin your dame! She givin up brain! You kissin that hoe, when she ain't round I bet you missin that hoe You better listen (bro!) I'm on a mutha fuckin mission (whoa!) To get rid of my opposition (Oh!) These niggas ain't no competition (No!) Ain't on my level, and I ain't even 20 yet Niggas in trouble, I'm blowin up like a balloon And laughin at these clowns like a 3rd grader watchin cartoons. (Laughs in the background) [Hook x2] [Verse 3] It's that real shit, so feel me, like you feelin a stripper, Ready to tip her, dick bout to bust out your zipper! You know Camoflauge, the don, sippin perion Smoking reefer, ridin round getting my fettin on See these niggas playa hate me, but its all gravy cause I PUTS IT DOWN LIKE A SHITTY BABY! Brought pain to the rap game, just like a 7 in a crap game Niggas didn't understand what the fuck was happ'ning Shit went to sellin out the store like a crack house Drought season! Good dope! Niggas know I'm the ? Get in the booth and represent And when I come out nobody go in there for 35 to 45 minutes! [Hook x3] [talk till fade] S in heavy rotation even though we make them Hits from the streets, Projects, Ghettos and gutters And them thong wearin broads in the club shakin they buttux Me, I'm slangin tapes like them hookers slangin they cut up And just like the freak bitches i'm makin these niggas nut up So What up (What up, What up) And just like Trick Daddy say Uh Huh, Okay, Bitch Shut UP! [Chorus] From the Jail House to the Crack House niggas Steal my shit Put an alarm on my lyrics just in case my niggas try to steal my shit I Spit like text, Good like sex, Pop my Tape in yo deck and u'll be high like your on EX Floatin' and shit, cuz I be spittin that potenent shit Got em' coughin and chokin and shit watch how u talkin and shit Grill gold teeted out Eyes all reded out Head all dreaded out Kick shit like Jet-Li and Jackie Chan I fuck over MC's Like they pussy and im dingalang When I spit these flows i'm out of control Like a kindergardener diggin in his nose And wipin the bugers off on yo close I'm camoflauge man these niggas can't see me Unless i'm at the mall walkin round drop the top down doin a show on TV All he talks about is drugs, sex, and violence the black Slim Shady Don't hate me cuz I put it down like a shitty baby Ya Smell Dat? [Chorus] Look I took my pen and pad Rolled up every sheet I had Bust up every gaurd in the car Rolled up all the weed I had Lit it, hit it, rolled it remembered it spit it They mixed it mastered it manufactured Shifted Promoted, the stores sold it, niggas robbed it and stole it Hurry up dog pull it off yo tape deck it's too hot to hold it They got drunk and weeded, ridin' round town in they trunks they beat it They woofers WHAM WHAM, and they tweeters , Leada Leada The way a fuck over the track it's like i miss treat it Help writin a hit's like help fuckin a bitch I Don't Need it. I'm cool, no ice, das all gravy, No rice Mr. Rogers wanted me to move in his neighborhood cuz my flows is so nice Humptey dumptey sat on a wall Peter Piper picked a pepper Yeah I sat on the curb wit a bag of herb and picked up a bad habit of gettin cheddar Black beretta Tucked up under my Coogi Sweater Man I ain't met a nigga yet dat flow betta Nigga I puts it down [Chorus] [Camoflauge] Ya smell dat I puts it down like a shitty baby Ya'l smell dat Dat real shit Camoflauge the dog Stictly for da streets Nigga i puts it down like a shitty baby Dat funky shit Dat muthafuckin real shit, uncut shit, dat 912 shit Nigga ya smell dat Savannah Georgia nigga From Letras Mania