Upload

Loading icon Loading...

This video is unavailable.

2 Live Crew & Ice T - The Real One

Sign in to YouTube

Sign in with your Google Account (YouTube, Google+, Gmail, Orkut, Picasa, or Chrome) to like LesaneRecords's video.

Sign in to YouTube

Sign in with your Google Account (YouTube, Google+, Gmail, Orkut, Picasa, or Chrome) to dislike LesaneRecords's video.

Sign in to YouTube

Sign in with your Google Account (YouTube, Google+, Gmail, Orkut, Picasa, or Chrome) to add LesaneRecords's video to your playlist.

Uploaded on Jan 11, 2008

Lyrics:

Verse 1: [brother marquis]
Only the realest can feel us, cap-peelers and killers
Hundred-dollar billers and real niggas
Bitches with dime figures, telekenesis in my mind
Make my diamonds shine, then I blind niggas
Pussy punk perpatrators and playa haters
They cant fade us cause we two of the greatest
Back out to let em have it, fake fucks and faggots
Bow down in the presence of players and kiss the karats
A wrist full of (? ) for all the maggots
Back up and get embarrassed, bitch, get off my carriage
Uncut, no lactose, hear the raw dose
Straight off the key, 100% g
Whos puttin it down on miamis behalf
Home of the nickel (? ) and the raw half
Everywhere we go, the impressions felt
The real is stamped on the bag and the dope is dealt

Chorus (2x):
Gat in the back, sunroof top,
Real one on the scene with the gangsta lean
The real one!
Huh?
Whut?
The real one!
Huh, nigga whut?

Verse 2: [ice-t]
Its 98, playa, check your game
Make sure them young boys respect your name
Keep your heed at arms, reached, cocked and ready
cause the streetsll catch you slippin and rock you steady
Watch your back with your homies that you feel is real
Your homeboys from your crew, yeah, theyre the ones who do
Yeah, the suckas that got the playa hater venom,
I wanna take em outside and lay slugs up in em
But thats trippin, and that aint my sport
Id rather lamp up my cirb and flip to rob a port
I sip my v-dozen on the street, bump my beats
When Im twistin my dub, cant nobody compete

Imagine this
Hundred-g lex on your wrist
Imagine this
About 10 karats on your fist
Imagine this
All dime hoes on your list

Huh, that shit would be nice, but your name aint ice
Nigga trip
And screw the style and so on, rock you softly
How you gonna step to me, kid, you grew up off me
Tv, movies and records and tours
So many buses in versace I dont wear it no more
Called my nigga in miami, marquis, wussup?
He said, playa, chop some game on this bubblin cut!
I said, shoot me the track, or you can come too,
Or if yall wanna ball in cali, Ill fly in your whole crew.

Chorus

Verse 3: [brother marquis]
Ima stay in the field, on a quest for the mils
And try to keep it real till I die or get killed
So I can sit back and kick it, write my own ticket
And live this lavish lifestyle of trickin and big-dickin
Seein that the west and the souths connected
Formulatin, plottin game to perfection
Down with the syndicate, bossin new tennis shit
Crimes cold defended, get caught, do the sin
Theres politickin in the 600, drunk and blunted
Thats how we front it, but you dont wanna run up on it
Inside the club packin, actin,
Got my bitch at home c-sackin, got my ones stackin
Parlay, playin diamond link, cubin cable
Baddest bitches in the stable, mo money on the table
Im back in the game to show em how its done
Ice-t and marquis, youre fuckin with the real one!

  • Category

  • License

    Standard YouTube License

Loading icon Loading...

Loading icon Loading...

Loading icon Loading...

Loading icon Loading...

Ratings have been disabled for this video.
Rating is available when the video has been rented.
This feature is not available right now. Please try again later.

Loading icon Loading...

Loading...
Working...
Sign in to add this to Watch Later

Add to