Текст песни King Tee - Can This Be Real
King Tee - Can This Be Real слова песни
YoWhat`s upKing Tee`s in the muthafuckin houseGot my homeboy Young Floyd in the houseJ-Ro`s in the houseBut yo[ VERSE 1 ]Now here`s somethin everybody can relate toI know you hate to, but I feel great toBe the man to shake you, awake you and make youStop sleepin, and I do what it takes toBring a screechin halt to the snoozinFirst listen to the jam before you start choosinAnd refusin, sayin you can`t hack itYou never even bothered to take it out the jacketPut it on the turntable, have a listenThen if it`s wack, start dissinNow I understand why you`re dissin my cutSo I spit in my foot and stick my fist up your buttCause you have no business, really in thisAnd I have no time for that diss-dissI shoot a rhyme at you like I`m shootin to killAnd you can do is ask yourself (can this be real?)[ VERSE 2 ]Now this song, I dedicate it to the sleepersNothing real hard, just a little teaserFor those who told those that the King Tee was done withNo, not quite, yo Pooh - pump itSuckers don`t front, I know it`s me you admireI take your girl, set her soul on fireI use the mic like a gun and my rhymes like ammoI go Tyson while others go RamboPooh-puts are warned, break north while you can, bubGive up rappin, join my fanclubI`m the rap reverend, hip-hop evangelistYo, I can handle this, pass me the canabisPro rap artist, and my rhymes are kinda raunchyStart with somethin smooth, end with somethin punchySee, I can rock, funk, rock, reggae or salsaHeavy metal or some soul, disco at the casaJust to the point of a vinyl conventionTee does the rappin, E does the mixinSo if you`re still sleepin, yo, that`s illBut when you`re awake - what`s your question?(Tell me, can this be real?)Let me see if I can bust this one offRight hereOne take[ VERSE 3 ]As I resume with my rhymes, or should I say continueYou got the nerve to try to pretend youDon`t like what I`m doin or sayin so farBut usually when I`m done you`re satisfied, of courseI don`t front or fake, don`t base or sniffDon`t rob or steal or shoot dice and pimpCause I love to hang out with my posse and chillYou might think I`m a thug, so think what you willI got a girl with a curl, and a homie named SonnyNever smoked crack, cause the shit smelled funnyKing Tee, my alter ego, there`s not to be a sequelSuckers try to diss me when I entertain the peopleHey, I`m a murderer, your girl, I`m servin herYou feel like beefin - hah, the nerve of yaI hit you so hard, it make your mother feel dizzyBack up, punk, the King came to get busy(Tell me, can this be real?)