That Real Shit
Tainted ft. Golden Shellz


Tainted 1st Verse
Cause when they see the goons
From wall to wall, from room to room
All of them flashin’ dem thangs with silent doom
See I’mma business man,
Merc you and still stay a ladies man
From Haiti to da dames in da south of France
Look, you don’t hold the power,
Just the penis that owns the powder
Yeah, I see the coke in ya nose,
In tenements yelling some crackhead codes
See I still keep it ganagsta,
Gator shoes, black suit and a fitted wit da Lakers
And I got slugs big enough to crack ya back,
And Enough traffic to manufact ya crack
My style, the freshness, gives me better promotion,
More than you, whose rhymes are like human corrosion
Despite ya devotion, your only attribute is your skills with hand lotion (ha)

-Chorus-
See it’s that real…
Shit to make you kill shit,
Drop ‘em in da club shit
Have you wild out (That club shit)
Beat thumps through ya ear drum,
Lyrics uncut
And the Haters odie cause it’s never enough

-Chorus-

Golden Shellz –2nd Verse-
Why do cats wake up and hear about these killings
Im puttin’ leadin these niggas, like donuts wit cream filling
U can’t pop slugs if ya game comes up weak
Cats fall victim, devastated just cause of one piece.
Theres cats in da hood tryna, take my 9 lives
But I don’t blame their characters cuz I’m poking they wives (ha)
Im not lyin’, nowadays niggas is all talk.
That’s not real crack, nigga, you just blowin’ that fake chalk.
Youse a herb, wit wack lyrics wat are you thinkin’
You do wat I say, I own you man ur assistant pimpin
Don’t ever call urself a gangster
Cuz most people ain’t built like dat
Keep talking smack, you’ll get clapped
And popped wit ya own gat.
Cuz I send them killas and gangstas right to ya house.
Take ya lights out
and hear muffled sounds wit da pump in ya mouth.
Prevental pumps, Hit you chumps
Get found in da dumps
I’ll take body fat from you like Nutty Professor, the Klumps.
As far as I concerned ya mini gats don’t phase me
Cuz you could jerk ya man like a fag, like Jim Magreavy

::Chorus::

Tainted 3rd Verse
And the lyrics stay fluid and brollic,
Metaphoric cuts tranquilizin’ like hypnotic,
Rather than homicide, I’d rather traffic narcotics.
And the cars and bikes are just so exotic.
And there are always haters tryna take our lives,
But I just flick the wrist, show the bling which burns they eyes.
And don’t try to clap back cause ya rhymes are dry,
Cause I’ll burn you so bad, I’ll make ya whack Song Cry.
And you can’t touch me bro, I’m surrounded
But don’t let that fool you
Cause I’m not hesitant to give you a poundin’
Blue steel, shotty, yeah I’m well rounded
Have the bullets flying around at the speed of sound and
The stench of gun powder as they tear through ya flesh,
Ya heart ain’t the only thing poundin’ at ya chest.
I carry dem things that go bump in the nite
And if your smart you won’t bother to put up a fight.
Now listen, this flow cannot be stopped,
And the rhymes get sicker until ya mic is dropped
And the bullets don’t stop til ya skull is popped,
And ya prescence is played out like old hightops.
::Chorus::2x