Lyrics
Guess who’s back
Guess whos' back muthafucka, big ballin' ass muthafuckin' Breed
Givin' you what ya need, yea, smokin' a gang of weed
Hit them fools nigga
Come one, come all
Niggas get the beat down
Retreat, creep, or feel the heat of the Breed sound
Collect facts, then attack like I’m suppose to
Ya boy’s goin', lef', on niggas and them hoes too
It’s me, that nigga who ain’t never got caught
My mic is wounded, I’ma test it with a touch of salt
Keep a book of the mark ass niggas I broke
Cause big Breed, can do ya while I’m smokin' my dope, try an' cope
Catch up as this shit gets mental, this chronic got me workin' my brain
I need a pencil
So I can shake and change the style, but in the meanwhile
I maintain the crowd
Make moves to improve, so I can build a bigger rep
The trigger finger strapped, I wanna see another nigga step
I play the cards, lost by your dingy mista Gillagan
The mighty mad writer’s straight up Comin' Real Again
Buck buck muthafucka. Right at your muthafuckin' ass
This shit too strong for a muthafuckin' vest
So watch your chest and your dome
Leave Breed the fuck alone
We sendin' niggas to the fuckin' cemetery
They got me thinkin'. Sittin' in the hot spot
I’m straight up havin' hard times wanting me a drop top
And a fat knot, and I ain’t tryin' to hear that 5−0 shit
I’m black, and I was born with a survival kit, uh
Ain’t shit but spit, in the beer that I’m drinkin'
I gotta get paid, I gotta get paid, and that’s what a nigga be thinkin'
You sleep hoes, I’m puttin' a peep holes
In your forehead. Run till your toes is numb, go test your broke head
Breed’s got niggas at your back once again punk
Told you ain’t no future in that shit, but you still front
When will they realize, I got the feel again
The mighty mad writer’s Comin' Real Again
Buck buck biiinnng
That’s the motherfuckin' sound as we buckin' mothafuckas down
Yea nigga, run but you count out race this motherfuckin' bullet
Breed, pull it. They can’t fade you boy
Once mo', toe to toe? I don’t think so
Bird sales, and knockin' niggas out like Riddick Bowe
You ain’t the play, you know the play so don’t say shit
Get 'em up and find your ass gettin' up off the pavement
Wavin' the shit, beggin' niggas to just straight quit
But fuck that, a hard head can get a niggas ass kicked
I ain’t lettin' up for none… son
I’m Comin' Real Again
Yea motherfucka how you wanna play this shit?
We can go toe to toe, Glock for Glock, block for block
Homie to muthafuckin' homie
But you muthafuckas gonna feel this nigga this time
Cause we ain’t comin' back with that old bullshit
There’s too many muthafuckin' dead niggas for me to be takin' this here bullshit
That’s why there’s muthafuckas in the pin now, nigga
So pull or quit that bullshit, cause I don’t wanna hear that muthafuckin' crap
Comin' Real Again nigga, thought I told you muthafuckas, I thought you knew
It’s the muthafuckin' real shit muthafucka. 100 percent authentic
Type of shit you fuckin' get chronic’d out to, you know what I’m sayin'?
So do me one of them muthafuckin' favors, and light another fuckin' blunt
You know what I’m sayin'? A blunt muthafucka. Philly style
You know what I’m sayin'? Chronic nigga!
I’m talkin' 'bout laid out, played out, phat fuckin' funk
Yea this that type shit we kickin' in the 9 tre muthafucka
So all you muthafuckin' big ballin' ass gangstas
You put your muthafuckin' hand on yo' gat
And if the police roll up and say turn it down, you burn it down muthafucka
Cause we Comin' Real Again. 19 nigga 3, boy. Real again. We grabbin' steel
Again, cause we Comin' Real Again. We turn the 90's to the 60's muthafucka
That’s how we rollin'