- Votes:
 - See also:
 
Mana - Real Talk 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
 Cuz' 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 cuz' 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 grillMana - Real Talk - http://motolyrics.com/mana/real-talk-lyrics.html
 But I'm hearin' you was a dirtbag before the deal
 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








