Real Talk (Pop's Song) - Mathematics

Ok, I’m sayin’man

They sayin', Pop, man, they

They sayin’that you singin’too much, man

They sayin’man, that, you know

They don’t think you got the rapping skill no more

Man, you can’t hold it down on the streets

Man, you too much, focused on the ladies

Nah, God, I’ve been rappin', I just took a little break, man

You know, everybody’s rappin’now, knowhatimsayin'

I’m mean, damn, huh?

You got a lotta rappers, but how many rappers is ill

How many rappers you know in platinum and touched the mill

How many rappers you know that’s nice, without a deal

How many rappers pumpin’the things, that I can’t feel

How many rappers up in that Source, with 5 mics

How many rappers you know that’s rhymin', sound a like

How many rappes is kickin’rhymes, they didn’t write

Talkin’that thug shit, and really can’t fight

How many rappers that wanna step to me, and get ate up Many rappers I done battled, made 'em all shut up Ooh, I’m not the best, I’m one of the best

Get it off your chest, don’t hold your breathe

I’mma be that nigga, to show niggaz in hip hop

Who’s hot and whose not, and one of the best is Pac

Ooh, I’m not the best, I’m on the best

And they sayin’that… you ain’t ill, nigga

I can’t see that, what you did to me, man

That shit got me fucked up, knowhatimsayin?

I’m like, shit, this nigga’s the hottest nigga in the game, right now

I’m the man

You got a lot rappers, then you get out the game quick

Talkin’that same shit, that lame shit, like

We give a fuck about your chains, and your whips

And your rollie, and how icey your shit is Nigga, talk about that, pain that it really is That’s for my niggaz locked up, my thugs on the block

With the glocks up, wanna hear

That shit you talkin', was played out last year

You fuckin’clown, cuz of you

Nigga that don’t even rhyme, wanna rhyme now

Get in the game and twist it around

See what you did, I should kill you on th strength of Pac and Big

Cuz them niggaz loved and lived and died for this shit

Hear you come, playin’with this, talkin’how you been rich

You was never poor, never been through a struggle

But never seen no bars, quit screamin’you’re hardcore

Or star like bar, somebody gon’fuck around and call your bluff

Allow the gat, and me like «nigga what»

You gon’be like… yo yo, hold up man

All I’m sayin’is, I was just gettin’jigged

Spittin’out blood, knowhatimean

Man talkin’about, this nigga don’t spit

What the fuck is wrong with you?

What the fuck

He speakin’a different fuckin’language?

These niggaz is not listenin’man, pay attention

What the fuck, and ooh, and ohh

Oh shout out to my nigga 50

For hollerin’at your boy, yeah

That oooh… haha, yeah, real talk, nigga