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2 Real
(187, 187, 187) (Who's next?) [Intro: Chopped and Screwed Voice talking behind Chorus w/ ad libs] Screwed Up Click You know what this means, right? Clover G! Let's go Yeah, I'm too real to be an actor Ya dig? You know who you are You be home, you behind the
mic Not me though [Chorus:] "Nigga's a
threat, too real to be an actor" [x8] [Verse 1: Lil' Flip] This ain't a
movie, this more like a
screenplay Cause on the
real I
went to the
block each day (for real) The G
way, so hit me on my three way Look if you want to live, you better take it easy You jump, fly with me, I
clip your wings off You violate me again, I
infa beam y'all This H-Town, the
home of the
trunk poppers Oh and I'm on that kush nigga, I'm a
funk doctor I
make hits in the
streets and in the
booth So keep playin I'll put one on you (YOU) I'm tatted up, cause I
love takin pain I
give my artist's a
cheat and tell 'em "keep the
change" I
ain't petty player, I
buy the
whole thang My work pure since you want to talk blow man I
got that shit that made Len Bias overdose Yours truly, the
King of the
Third Coast [Chorus] [Verse 2: Chamillionaire] Yo, it's Koopa baby, uh Jackers pay attention and don't get the
script confused Cause I
promise Black & Decker ain't gon' miss you with the
tools Better duck before you lose, like McDuck or Mr. Scrooge I
ain't givin away a
golden cent or nothin to you fools Clownin on the
camera, tryin to get you on the
news Sometimes the
cloest ones, the
ones who tryin to see you lose They say that "Family Matters" tell Urkel that I'm the
truth Cause I'm a
be a
"Family Guy" 'til Stewie get it misconstrued Scratchin off the
serial, materials get thrown away For jackers I
got that cereal, I'm pourin out the
Special K
Don't get blown away, plot and you will bowl away From no one just with a
Cheerio size hole to stay Homie it ain't no debate, some Pirelli's known to hate So I
had to motivate a
set of O's to hold my swangs Tippin on my rollerblades, head to toe way on them thangs Tickets just get thrown away like I
was supposed to pay [Chorus] [Verse 3: Lil' Flip] Look, aye it's way too late to try to make peace Just be glad they didn't find your ass on the
streets First they said H-Town wasn't gonna blow But we proved 'em wrong, even Bun B
went gold I'm Michael Phelps, the
way I
swim up in your wife Look I'm the
reason her juice box ain't tight (Who the
King of Houston?), y'all better say me Cause Def Jam Vendetta is the
only way you'll play me [Verse 4: Chamillionaire] NBA Live 2006, only way that they'll play me I
was born to be a
boss and you just a
trainee In money that we trust, so you can trust in me Cause I
am money, you should see how much I
clutched this week They say that money talks, so you can trust this speech It's Barack O'Balla baby, let's do lunch, let's feast Landlord of the
H, let's discuss this lease If you in Texas and you leanin, then adjust your seat, for Pimp C
[Chorus: w/ ad libs] [Outro: Lil' Flip talking] Hey, we too real man For real, yeah Too real to be an actor, man (187, 187, who's next?) 187, who's next? Hahaha Hey Cham man It feel good to be amongst the
platinum elite club baby Hey let 'em know The
grind don't stop, Flipgates, Chamillionaire It's Volume 4, right? Hey Cham man, let these niggaz know man I'm fuckin with these beats now 682-561-8900
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