- Votes:
- Composers:
- Cameron Giles
- Joseph Banks Jefferson
- Justin Gregory Smith
- Charles B Simmons
 
- Tags:
- dipset
- thug
 
- See also:
Cam'ron - I Really Mean It lyrics
You see man, let's get off of that lame man
 Let's get into what we like to do man
 This what we do preferably man
 We bring that powerful music to your table man
 Killa, let ?em know something
 Young Guru, Just Blaze, Killa, Diplomats, huh
 Juelz Santana, Jim Jones, Freaky Zekey
 Hoffa, Dash, huh, Killa, huh
 Ya'll niggas dreamed it, I have seen it
 Body warm, heart anemic
 (I really mean it)
 Coke, a nigga steamed it, fiends I leaned ?em
 Beemer leaned it
 (I really mean it)
 Guns, really beaming, rarely miss, what's really good?
 Bikes, wheelie and creamin'
 (I really mean it)
 I'm a genius, poppadopalis, never leaning
 On your Zenith
 (I really mean it)
 Killa, bury more mutts, they actually all ducks
 Caddy more trucks, it's daddy Warbucks
 And you Orphan Annie, ma, take off your panties
 Sea soft and sandy
 (I really mean it)
 Yeah, let's get lost in candy
 I got lost in Boston, Austin
 Flossin' of course Miami
 Reno, Nevada sip pina colada
 Mama I'm seen on the Prada
 (I really mean it)
 I rock more in Phoenix road to glory
 Seen it, you seen it
 (I really mean it)
 The game abuse it, it's pain in music
 But this year, wrist wear remains the bluest
 I get lame and lose it, beef came to do it
 Aim and shoot it, flames ?til your brains the fluid
 Ya'll just kids, see what I just did, take a couple bars off
 Let Just [unverified] live
 Yeah, now that's powerful music man
 You need to pop something and roll something
 (I really mean it)
 Killa we did it man, I got your back forever, Dip Set
 (I really mean it)
 And them lames, we pop them sideways
 And drag them faggots
 (I really mean it)Cam'ron - I Really Mean It - http://motolyrics.com/camron/i-really-mean-it-lyrics.html
 Okay, we back in, Mami listen
 (I really mean it)
 Hey yo lock my garage, rock my massage
 Fuck it, bucket by Osh Kosh Bgosh
 Golly, I'm gully, look at his galoshes
 Gucci, gold, platinum plaque collages
 From collabos, ghost writing for assholes
 Want to use my brain, than give Killa mad dough
 It's all good, increase Killa cash flow
 Increase my fame, that's why Killa smash hoes
 You'll get side swiped, look at my life
 First movie ever, merked out Mekhi Phife
 And Papi got jerked out of pies twice
 Dip Set, we working with five dice
 Cee-lo and craps, C-notes and stacks
 I send bodies with, read this note attached
 Ya youngin' fucked with boys in the hood
 Gave her a son like Ricky, from ?Boyz in the Hood'
 On the couch bloody, old lady sighing
 Wifey screaming
 (I really mean it)
 Pissy little baby crying
 Fuck upped man shit, there you seen it
 (I really mean it)
 Fam man, you terry cloth, that mean you very soft
 Gravy Mercedes, add the cranberry sauce
 Yeah, gangstas ride man
 Flex we got you, guns up
 (I really mean it)
 And all my ladies man, the ghettos a diddy
 I need you, I want you
 (I really mean it)
 Oh, pop something, roll something
 Get twisted, that's on Jim nigga
 (I really mean it)
 Harlem! Man we here to stay
 It's nothing left to say man
 (I really mean it)
 Eastside, and as for that lame man
 Now see I ain't even gone say your last name
 'Cause that's mine, I catch you, you know what it is
 You faggot!
 I ain't gone get to hyped over you man
 We gon' bury you, holla!
 See if you bout it, bout it
 'Cause we is
 (I really mean it)
 NYC!








