Real Niggaz

By Redman

On Malpractice

Released on May 22, 2001

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[Intro: Icarus]

Yeah, now, now—is you motherfuckers ready for this? (C'mon)

Do you really think you ready for this? (C'mon)

Do you know that you ready for this, huh?

We gon' see if you ready for this


[Verse 1: Scarface]

I be the street sweeper nigga

Quick to leave your whole block shook and shot at

From fuckin round with the mi-dack

Eleven, twenty-four, AK 47

Fuck who's standin' around them get close up and down and

I done came here to get brains

Shoot you twice in your stomach

Then leave your boxer shorts full of shit stains

You're bitch-made, you ain't a gangsta, you a sucker ass

These niggas scared of your bark {*barkin*} but bitch I touch ass

And bust back, what's that?

It's Face-mob in effect

With Icarus, Reggie, Jamal and Treach

I told you that talkin' wasn't shit to me

So bitch, be more specific when you spit for me

"It ain't shit to me"

You a ho in a fifth degree

A discharge from a dick disease

You lil' maggot, part time thug for a faggot

Plastic-ass chump, you don't want no static


[Hook: Redman]

Real niggas—louder

Real niggas—louder—louder!

Real niggas—yo

Real niggas


[Verse 2: Redman]

Yo, yo, yo

It's Funk Doc—I thought you knew

PPP in the back, and they parkin' too (Jump!)

Thorough borough, Bricks, ashy elbow kid

I fuck chicks off Elmo flicks

My tape is off safety, tongue the gun

Mouth to barrel, I spit, it numbs the front

(So, what'cha—what'cha want?) Yo, my boys is beasty

We grew up untamed, unemployed, and eatin'

You sharks in the water, avoid the deep end

We only fuck chicks that enjoys the beatings

Young Ike Turners, disco infern-ers

Concentration camp, nobody turn up

I roll up a 'X' that came with kits

Leave you with "Nightmares" Dana Dane was with (niiight-marrres)

I can train yo' bitch with a chain and whip

Ic, blow the block down while I change the clip


[Verse 3: Icarus]

Yo, don't approach me wrong, little kids call me Smokey-mon

Cause the blunts that I light set off smoke alarms {*beep beep*}

And I stand on the corner 'til my coke is gone

Niggas wanna get they ice picks, poke the don

But they know I got a gun big as Oprah's arm

And I know a old lady that'll choke they moms

A attitude, that's what I don't walk without

Nigga I'mma time for it, you just talk about

Ic' is the man, and I never been to Japan

Got a Japanese bitch with my dick in her hand

This is the plan, I'm about to get in the van

Go and get rid of the man, I done did it again

Skunk I blow, then off to the trunk I go

Pull the pump out slow, dump out fo'

I'm the nigga that the streets raised

I'm the nigga that'll make 3-ways outta nigga PJ's

The nigga that'll smack the shit out the DJ

If he don't give Icarus' shit a replay

Poker flush, y'all niggas joke too much

And my gun got cancer, it smoke too much, we...


[Hook: Redman]

Real niggas—louder

Real niggas—louder—louder!

Real niggas—yo

Real niggas


[Verse 4: Jamal]

First of all, you gotta have balls, unlike some who act hard

I was real ever since I shot out my pop's black balls

I'm real, I can sense danger and tap calls

I'm real, I feel when haters wanna clap 'Mal

I look a nigga eye to eye when I speak

I'm transparent, I can see if you a killer or a freak

Or a bitch that'll do anything to get rich

Or a snitch that'll drop dime on the click

Or a fake, that'd rather see me at my wake

Or a Jake tryin to infilitrate, give me a case

I'm real like, BITCH, get the fuck out my face

I'm real like let me stick my dick in ya mouth, give you a taste

I'm a real nigga if I don't get no bigger

I'm five-five, still knockin' out tall niggas

We real niggas plottin' on dummies with tall figures

Real niggas hands on forty caliber triggers

Bullets hummin', real like Redman's fifth coming...


[Verse 5: Treach]

Trigger Treach!

Bastards, blunts, buddhas, bullets, black gats is the lingo!

Fuck a jolly jingle, old bitches break for Bingo

Christmas time I crack yak and Kris with Kringle

Gettin funk from nymphos and scratch my nuts with yo' single

Who's the gay scratcher, minus the rap masters?

Name is Kay, with "the gay G" after

My thugs on the street with the heat, listen to me

See them diamond D.M. medallions—snatch! You give 'em to me

Mally G's a part of me

Icky slips his own self mickies in crowded armories

Fuck with Redman you're a dead man at the robbery

You'll be (?) Adebisi greasy put him on to me, fuck that!

I'm a throwin' flames fanatic, bashin' brains, come at it

Beat you with the shit that they used to frame the attic

Your skank-ass go voo-doo, poodle-wig wearin rashy

Rusty and trusty, musty-wack-nasty


[Skit]


[Reporter]

Once again in the Bricks! Chris Tricarico reporting live from WKYA radio!

Where I find myself in a bit of a snafu

Oh, I see a gentleman in the corner who may be able to help me

Excuse me! Sir? Ah, pardon me! Maybe you didn't hear me, I'm talking to you!

I'm looking for the 9 8!


[Man 1]

Yo man, you 5 0?


[Reporter]

No, I'm not 5 0, I'm looking for the 9 8, that's all!


[Man 1]

Man, that's 89, man. Whatchu talking about, man?


[Man 2]

Ayo, [?] that nigga, man

That nigga po-po!


[Reporter]

No, I'm not po-po, I just...

Can I get some uh-huh?


[Man 2]

I, I see that nigga there! [?]

I'm telling you!


[Man 1]

Uh-huh, man? Ain't no uh-huh, man


[Reporter]

Ah, forget it. It's getting too hostile in here


[Man 3]

Ayo man, who the fuck is this nigga, man?


[Man 2]

Ay man, word is bond, that nigga was fuckin with [?], I'm telling you, but


[Man 3]

Ayo man, get the fuck-

(Gunshots)


[Reporter]

Ah! It's getting too violent! Chris Tricarico, WKYA radio, signing off!