Artist: Lil Scrappy f/ Bohagon Album: The King of Crunk & BME Recordings Presents Lil Scrappy & Trillville Song: Be Real Typed by: thetrio@mybluelight.com [Chorus: 2X] If you a thug my nigga be a thug if you sell drugs my nigga then sell drugs if you gonna rap about it be trill about it and dont say shit if you can't BE REAL about it [Lil Scrappy] Comin up as a child all I seen was Hell Momma stepped, Daddy sold yay, stayed in and out of jail I came robbin and kickin in doors then went from a half to sellin ten O's But ya see shorty, My mom was a G she made it real easy for my sista and me She did what she had to do and go on the damn grind like a nigga would do Talkin about pimpin, o she did that too I got robbed because a old nigga took all my loot And I was just 12 years old goin on 13, which made me bold that's why I thank my heart is so cold I gives a fuck about none of you hoes All you fake thugs think about is grillin wit gold replacin yo does (shawty), and cakin these hoes (shorty) and cakin these hoes I'ma pimp, I spend my time makin these hoes [Chorus] [Lil Scrappy] Nobody loves me so I guess I stay to myself A nigga thankin 'bout change contemplatin my death Feel my pain as it rains all over a nigga and the only way I can get away is weed and liquor Fuckin niggas up on the daily if they didn't pay me Niggas pullin guns on me damn near drove me crazy Young nigga went to school just to sell some dope A lil crazy ass nigga wit a knife in his coat And in the streets broke heathens went through drama especially Momma swung on a nigga, I stabbed a bitch in the head I don't scratch my head unless it itches And I don't smoke unless I'm bustin at you hatin bitches Niggas, we was bred to die, don't be askin me why I'll rather hustle in the cold cause niggas prayin wit fire All the childhood issues when the Devil's out to get ya Got my mind on my gun and I shall pull pistol [Verse 3: Bohagon] (Bohagon) You see the streets, they'll swallow you whole Your mind, body, and soul And leave you in a ditch, cold, wit no shoes and clothes Be waitin for the trash collector Follow me now selector to the ghetto sector They'll kill you over thirty dollars I seen a man cut wit a dirty bottle blood squirted on his shirt and collar I heard him holla a sound that I cant forget Ran home, watched cartoons and ain't said shit And to this day, Momma thought I was up at the park while she was at the church praising the lord I made it through amazingly unscarred She had to be praying, because I made it by the graces of God A product of hard times, I spit hard rhymes Bible in one, the other hard iron Dreaming of naming streets and boulevards mine Grab yo piece of the pie, the other parts mine [Chorus] - 2X