- Votes:
- See also:
Fabolous - 123 lyrics
[Intro] 
On them streets 
You better keep your hand on them heats 
And live what you sayin' on them beats 
Real talk.. 
[Verse 1] 
They ain't walkin' the walk, they just talkin' the talk 
Some people look at me as the real talk of New York 
I ain't these like these niggaz who be feinin' to front 
Like they the first to ever put green in a blunt 
Look I don't be meaning to stunt, but I zip down like jeans in the front 
In somethin' that you seen and you want 
But otherwise I'm cool wit' it 
They say only the ones who never had gon' get and act a fool wit' it 
Everybodys' gangsta through the promotion 
Even if they raised in a house wit' a view of the ocean 
The bangers is growin' upset 
'cause' ya' ass is on t.v. throwin' up sets 
And you know you ain't like that 
But you'll say that you is 
Go and rent a bunch a shit and and then say that its his 
You ain't a pimp or you wouldn't go to dinner wit' groupies 
Ain't a baller 'cause' you wouldn't put spinners on hoopties 
[Hook 2X] 
1-2-3; you don't really wanna fuck wit me 
Get in the way you could get yourself shot 
Fuck the cops, you on my block 
Fuckin' wit a gangsta nigga 
[Verse 2] 
How can niggaz say they be on the other side of the seas' 
Where the steering wheels are on the other side of the v's 
And the home look like the spot on the other side of the c's 
When they ain't never been on the other side of the p's 
I ca' see through em', ya tents are too light 
Every sentence you write is far from the truth 
You wanna be that nigga you are in the booth 
But you ain't got the heart, the scars, or the proof 
And now you flash ya' shirt tag in our grill 
But I'm hearin' you was a dirtbag before the deal Fabolous - 123 - http://motolyrics.com/fabolous/123-lyrics.html
You walk around talkin' how every dime sucked 
When they don't even speak to you, nevermind fucked you 
Ya' hood sayin' don't come back 
Step foot in here, and they gon' put you where you won't come back 
Dog, how the fuck you gon' have keys in ya' house 
When ya' moms' won't even give you keys to the house loser 
[Hook]
[Verse 3] 
Nigga you in the mirror, checkin' what your make ups' lookin' like 
Tryina fool the world wit' a Jacob look-a-like 
Jiving like you hold stacks 
But ya' car is ten years old homie, ya' drivin' in a throwback 
They gon' strip you, have you runnin' naked next 
Without security you like unprotected sex 
You ain't never gon' finger a trigger 
All you do is look in the mugshot book and finger a nigga 
I real recognize real, you'd be a john doe 
You livin' in a closet and call it a condo 
I don't member you as a slinger that was on the bench 
Just a little scrub ass ringer in the tournaments 
Now they try to blame the fall of hip hop on fans 
Nah, I think its these hip hop con mans 
Studio gangstas is played out now 
This ain't the eighties, battle raps'll get you layed out 
Fucka 
[Hook]
[Outro] 
1-2-3; and any time that you on them streets 
You better keep your hand on them heats 
And live what you sayin' on them beats 
Real talk 
Real talk 
It's really really really really real talk 
It's really really really really real talk 
It's really really really really real talk 
It's really really really really real talk









