Lyrics Trillville – Be Real
Text:
Chorus: 2X
If you a thug my nigga be a thug
if you sell drugs my nigga then sell drugs
if you gonna rap about it be trill about it
Verse 1
Coming up as a child all i seen was hell
My momma was the best soldier, dad stayed in out of jail
I came robbin and kicking in doors then on my behalf and 17 old
But ya see shorty, My mom was a G
she made it real easy for my Sister and me
She did what she had to do, and got on the grind like a damn nigga would do
Talking about pimping, o she did that too
I got robbed and this old nigga took all my loot
And I was just 12 years old on 13 skin and bones that’s why I thank my heart to sell dope
I gives a fuck about none of you hoes
All you fake thugs think about is grills and gold, and pressin these doors
(shorty) and caking these hoes
I’m a pimp, I spend my time making these hoes
Chorus
Verse 2
Nobody loves me so I guess I stay to myself
A nigga thinkin bout change contemplating my death
Fell my pain as it reigns all over a nigga
and the only way I can get away is weed and liquor
Fucking niggaz up on the daily if they didn’t pay me
Niggaz pulling guns on me damn near drove me crazy
Young nigga went to school just to sell some dope
A little crazy ass nigga wit a knife in his coat
And in the streets broke heathens went through drama especially
I dun scratch my head unless it itchs
an I dun smoke unless I’m bustin at you hating bitches
nigga we was brave to die, don’t be asking me why
Ill rather hustle in the cold cause niggaz spraying wit fire
All the childhood fixins wit the devil inside the kitchen
Got my mind on my gun and I’m finna pull a pistol
Verse 3: Bohagen
You see the streets, they’ll shallow you whole, mind body and soul
And leave you in a ditch wit no shoes and clothes
Waiting for the trash collector
Follow me mind selector to the ghetto sector
They’ll kill you over thirty dollars
I seen a man cut wit a dirty bottle blood squirted on his shirt and collar
I heard him holla a sound that I cant forget
Ran home, watched cartoons and ain’t said shit
And to this day momma thought I was young, hungry, and poor (par)
while she was at the church praising the lord
I made through amazingly unscarred
She had to be praying cause I made it by the grace of the god
I’m proud of my hard times, I spit hard rhymes
Bible in one hand, the other hand 9
dreaming of naming streets and boulevards mine
Grab yo piece of the pie, the other parts mine
Chorus — 2X
