Artist(Band):Mr. Serv-On

(Print the Lyrics)









[Chorus]



Keeping this real

Oh baby, keeping its real

Oh baby, keeping its real

Oh baby, keeping its real

Keeping its real



[Brotha Lynch Hung]



I put you up nigga, don't trip

You did your work for that mark and he left you in the dark

Skydiving in a bulletproof parachute

No remorse left you hanging, easy aiming lockdown

Shoot, the clock sounds two

One minute till I'm in it got a business

Fill they ass to death and get my scrilla in the corner none left

Shots out to my nigga in the penn getting switch

That whack bitch tried to stop a nigga from getting rich

You can dig a ditch but you won't find shit

Left you in flames, kept you roach, you can smell the shit when I

approach

I be off that stanky sack of indonesia

It's an evidential, I leave you hungry eat your cheesa

Heard you was sweet like an almond joy

And I know you heard of me cause I'm a west coast bad boy

And I'm a sick nigga, sick made (made)

It gets real as I pull the pin out this grenade (nade)

Body parts like the movie old school oozie

Rip your arms out from the elbows nigga I smell those green leaves

Those sick thieves, a twenty sack of green weed

Is all I need, I make you bleed, I take your green

I know you got it from the ice cream man

Before you make that transaction I need to cash in my hand (god damn)

And if you don't we can do the murder man dance

Under any circumstance I'm a have your pans



[Chorus]



[Master P]



Brotha Lynch, I'm a make you a deal you can't refuse

My phone tapped the new code for hafts and hoes

Is t-shirts and tennis shoes from the yay I got the sneaker

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