featuring Ice-T



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 can't 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

Who's puttin' it down on Miami's behalf

Home of the nickel (?) and the raw half

Everywhere we go, the impression's 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

It's '98, playa, check your game

Make sure them young boys respect your name

Keep your heed at arms, reached, cocked and ready

'Cause the streets'll catch you slippin' and rock you steady

Watch your back with your homies that you feel is real

Your homeboys from your crew, yeah, they're 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 that's trippin', and that ain't my sport

I'd rather lamp up my cirb and flip to rob a port

I sip my v-dozen on the street, bump my beats

When I'm twistin' my dub, can't nobody compete

(Imagine this) Hundred-g Lex on your wrist

(Imagine this) About 10 kar