Man, dog
You all can't fool a real n***a ainna
Man, you can't fool no real n***a, dog
You can tell a fuck n***a anything, dog
But you can't run that shit on a real n***a
Y'all n***as, y'all rap n***as, dog
TV-ass n***as who done sold two, three, four-mill or five million records, dog
A million records
And you steady hollering, bitch, you got a hundred bars
And you got them for ten-five
Oh, you can't fool a real n***a, dog
Bitch, you a full-time rapper now, n***a
That's all you do
You rap
Ain't nothing wrong with being a full-time rapper, dog
But stop running on the...
I think you can run it on a real n***a, dog
And you little young n***as that's coming up, dog
Dropping a n***a a CD
Getting, wanting n***as to listen to your shit, n***a
And you on there talking 'bout you Birdman, bitch, and you ain't got a car
You on there, talking that gangsta and you ain't even did nothing out here
Next time, a n***a give you a CD, dog
And you listen to it
And you know this n***a ain't 'bout what he on here talking 'bout
Slap that fuck n***a right in his mouth, dog
You say you know a n***a realer than Plies
But where he at?
Certified, pussy ass n***a
100% real n***a, dog
Get it how you live, n***a