CAMOFLAUGE - Dat Real Shit lyrics
[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!
[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
