Текст песни REAL KILLAZ - The Cool Kids, Sir Michael Rocks, BOLDY JAMES

REAL KILLAZ

Yeah
Real
Real, real, real
Real, real
Yeah
I’ma tell y’all 'bout 'em
I knew a killer named Plucko, kept a smile on his face
Thumped the bouncer in the lobby waiting in line at the Ace
I knew a killer named Noonie, a goonie, with them H blocks
He used to like to fuck on tape, then make his date watch
I knew a killer named Keith, came from the villas
As a shorty, used to give us fifty dollars every Christmas
was killer, we had Spanish together
Them dark circles around his eyes said he worked for the devil
I used to make him laugh when I got kicked out of class
The first nigga to rob a plug for a brick of some cash
I knew a killer named Bruno, my first time in the D
He made sure I was good, he treat me like family
I picked him up in his hood, he threw the blick behind a tree
Then he hopped in the whip, I said «you good without the heat?»
«That particular pistol got bunch of bodies in the street
And if they pull us over, I don’t want no problems 'cause of me»
Real nigga, will spill ya but his heart was way bigger
Ironic, nicest niggas I knew was real killers
Aha, real killers
Yeah, ah ah real killers
Yeah, uh huh real killers
Got love for real, real, real, real, real killers
Real killers
Big T, he was a killer, a Caribbean nigga
He cook the fuck outta jerk snapper, grill it and smoke it
His brother Phillip was a killer too
He drove the Sprinter down to Texas, on that South by Southwest shit
We was lit, big bags of okie on the highway
Played a lil' Hall and Oates and then some Sade
My cousin Cortez still up in the feds
He could dance like Bobby 'til them Latin Kings shot him
Always kept a Cutlass and a big-ass smile
Always nice to the shorties whenever we came around and
Then I heard stories about when he was at war with
Them same LK’s, he would dress like a homeless and
Push a grocery cart with guns at the bottom of it
And go into their territory, boy you gotta love it
But he was funny as a muhfucka out in public
I’d right a movie 'bout this nigga if I got a budget
Yup, yup, real killers
Got love for real, real
Aha, real killers
Yeah, ah ah real killers
Yeah, uh huh real killers
Got love for real, real
Knew a killer named Robby, never fucked with the help
He had about ten, twenty bodies under his belt
Killed the plug, took his wife, old lady was beautiful
Got him slayed and she still made him pay for the funeral
Knew a killer named Reddy, came home from a triple
touching soon, he been gone for a nickel
Knew a killer named Frankie, he was nice with the peel
Never had a CPL, just a license to kill
Well mannered, might not look like the type but he will
Caught his first framework with Francois and Khalil
Got his revenge but shit don’t look as nice as it feel
Was on the run in the Chi with Sir Mike and Tennille
Got behind him, turnt off, made a right at the yield
Tryna avoid me catching my third strike in the field
Growing up in Detroit, most of us grew to be murderers
Nicest niggas that I ever knew will do you the scurviest
Real killers