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Young Zee:That's My Nigga Fo' Real Lyrics

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That's My Nigga Fo' Real

This song is by Young Zee and appears on the movie soundtrack Music From and Inspired by the Motion Picture 8 Mile (2002).

Original video
Ugh, zee

I got wakin haze, my customer's hoes sleep with me
We have small beef, I still sell em o's for three fifty
They known when big beef, I'll pop 100 times
Be like road kill, I live niggas brains on 189
And my down bitches, they be ready to kill
I be like chill, they be like "Thats my nigga fo' real."

That's my nigga fo' real
That's my nigga fo' real
That's my nigga fo' real

I don't give a fuck if we don't sell a record
We still gunna get this money in the bricks
Spill it, Zee

I'm like santa clause, I deliver niggas grams raw
Straight from Panama, they eat it up like Hannibal
And my dons, they appear like magic wands
I sell em to the crack of dawn, and destroy every track I'm on

Plus i have a clan packed in the back of vans
More raw than the taliban, murk you for a half a gram
I get B-Boy a truck, yo truck in the river
Fuck some doe, he be like "Thats my nigga fo real."

That's my nigga fo' real
That's my nigga fo' real
That's my nigga fo' real

Scarecrow what, im trying to walk before I crawl
I want it all, ever since I came outta my mommas walls
Im trying to make so much dough when I write a song
I can vite em all, while ya'll click on the corner selling final calls

Niggas mad at us, gladiators like maximus
We fabolous, while you fall off like cannabis's managers
My man D, you keep the Nina pillin
Zee, point a mine and watch em soak em like Sarina Williams

That's my nigga fo' real
That's my nigga fo' real
That's my nigga fo' real

Zee need buddha, E user
Be freelookers spittin from our PT Cruisers
My tank dont drop, i still got dough to make
Got little niggas on rollerskates, holdin my coke and weight

Blow paper, hole chaser, doe raiser, joe frasier
Sixteen cellys and 4 pagers
Go hype up your squad that they might fuck with ours
I just light up cigars, go buy bikes, trucks and cars

Got axe n nitty in atlanta deep
Ran the street, 10 grand a week
I give 'em one word, dont put ya man to sleep
And i love my jersey live bitches
They leave a nigga, face with 35 stitches
They'll help me, cinder blocks and pushin kids so deep in the ocean
They see where octopusses live
This label deal is for raws pacin chill
I know mad heads, but still

That's my nigga fo' real
That's my nigga fo' real
That's my nigga fo' real

Yeah what

Bricks

Written by:

D. Battle / D. Ross

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