Fabolous Lyrics

Album: Real Talk

Real Talk (123) Lyrics

[Intro]

 On them streets

 You better keep your hand on them heats

 And live what you sayin' on them beats

 Real talk..

 

 [Verse 1]

 They ain't walkin' the walk, they just talkin' the talk

 Some people look at me as the real talk of New York

 I ain't these like these niggaz who be feinin' to front

 Like they the first to ever put green in a blunt

 Look I don't be meaning to stunt, but I zip down like jeans in the front

 In somethin' that you seen and you want

 But otherwise I'm cool wit' it

 They say only the ones who never had gon' get and act a fool wit' it

 Everybodys' gangsta through the promotion

 Even if they raised in a house wit' a view of the ocean

 The bangers is growin' upset

 Cuz' ya' ass is on t.v. throwin' up sets

 And you know you ain't like that

 But you'll say that you is

 Go and rent a bunch a shit and and then say that its his

 You ain't a pimp or you wouldn't go to dinner wit' groupies

 Ain't a baller cuz' you wouldn't put spinners on hoopties

 

 [Hook 2X]

 1-2-3; you don't really wanna fuck wit me

 Get in the way you could get yourself shot

 Fuck the cops, you on my block

 Fuckin' wit a gangsta nigga

 

 [Verse 2]

 How can niggaz say they be on the other side of the seas'

 Where the steering wheels are on the other side of the v's

 And the home look like the spot on the other side of the c's

 When they ain't never been on the other side of the p's

 I ca' see through em', ya tents are too light

 Every sentence you write is far from the truth

 You wanna be that nigga you are in the booth

 But you ain't got the heart, the scars, or the proof

 And now you flash ya' shirt tag in our grill

 But I'm hearin' you was a dirtbag before the deal

 You walk around talkin' how every dime sucked

 When they don't even speak to you, nevermind fucked you

 Ya' hood sayin' don't come back

 Step foot in here, and they gon' put you where you won't come back

 Dog, how the fuck you gon' have keys in ya' house

 When ya' moms' won't even give you keys to the house loser

 

 [Hook]

 

 [Verse 3]

 Nigga you in the mirror, checkin' what your make ups' lookin' like

 Tryina fool the world wit' a Jacob look-a-like

 Jiving like you hold stacks

 But ya' car is ten years old homie, ya' drivin' in a throwback

 They gon' strip you, have you runnin' naked next

 Without security you like unprotected sex

 You ain't never gon' finger a trigger

 All you do is look in the mugshot book and finger a nigga

 I real recognize real, you'd be a john doe

 You livin' in a closet and call it a condo

 I don't member you as a slinger that was on the bench

 Just a little scrub ass ringer in the tournaments

 Now they try to blame the fall of hip hop on fans

 Nah, I think its these hip hop con mans

 Studio gangstas is played out now

 This ain't the eighties, battle raps'll get you layed out

 Fucka

 

 [Hook]

 

 [Outro]

 1-2-3; and any time that you on them streets

 You better keep your hand on them heats

 And live what you sayin' on them beats

 Real talk

 Real talk

 It's really really really really real talk

 It's really really really really real talk

 It's really really really really real talk

 It's really really really really real talk