The Real (Stop Studio Gangsters)- Mr. Chino Grande, Midget Loco

One, two, three, four, get it

Now fuck a barcode, the only bars I know
Are institutions I go when I'm straight flat broke
And bust a lick, you ain't saying shit
And a quarter to six, deep throating my bitch
And hit the switch, on my homeboys pimped out ride
I can't lie, only one battery and no pumps in mine
The only pump that you see is the 12gauge in the trunk
Sawed-off with a five pound slide and I'm ready to dump
I got the double barrel mossberg, shells that rip your chest plate
A fade off in the sunset ese let the frame spray
Dipping, hitting corners from the Sur Killafornia
I roll along side jump out and take off on ya homeboy
There ain't no juego in mine
I spit that fuego like veneno in your studio times
So fuck this rap shit, because my contents real
I let my conscious kill, a little something to feel like

It's that real, so I hit em with that realness
Charlie Row Camponeros ese
Doing real shit
Sit back and relax, guns clap and that's that
As a matter of fact, brains splat in combat
It's that real, so I hit em with that realness
So all you studio gangsters gonna feel this
Perpitrating, you faking the funk
Quit bumping your gums
Porque estos vatos don't play ese where I come from

Now tell me little homie, what you talking about?
You better keep my name out your damn yuck-mouth
You talk about your bling and your banged out chain
I'm a bang for my gang, I'm here to rattle your brain
I'm a tingle your spine with a murderous crime
White chalked outline, what that Flats life like
Hood patrol with the Row, you a hoe ass show
Tuck you in like a hyna with a camel toe
What's your steez homie please we be holding the keys
We be smoking muthafuckas while you smoking them trees
You ain't busting no gun, never seen no red-rum
You be acting like a gangster, you a studio chump
We be walking the street, homie roaming the land
I'll be kicking up dust, while you be kicking the can
Sound scan you the man, CD in demand
Charlie Row controlamos, now we're wrecking your plan

It's that real, so I hit em with that realness
Charlie Row Camponeros ese
Doing real shit
Sit back and relax, guns clap and that's that
As a matter of fact, brains splat in combat
It's that real, so I hit em with that realness
So all you studio gangsters gonna feel this
Perpitrating, you faking the funk
Quit bumping your gums
Porque estos vatos don't play ese where I come from

It's that big J-A-S-P-E-R
And I stay shooting wilas to my G's on the yard
Hitting hard, boulevard, on the creep with the Row
Toe to toe, fuck a flow, I be serving this blow
Didn't scope from my hole, as I'm gripping a steel
Balas peel, that's the deal when you roll with the real
Gang fights at night, it's that South Side life
Game tight, that's right, finger fucking the nine
Did my crime, cracking spines, getting paid for the crime
Never dropping the dime, it's 2-1-3 on mine
I stay straight flipping and ripping
And poke the pot when the clip in
Up in the nine milli weapon
I'm up invading your section
Because I'm dipping with my G's from the C-Row camp
Stripping strips, serving sacks and I'm making em fat
So clicky-clack, that's a fact, to the back of your dome
And don't forget truly yours, Mr. Jasp-Corleone

It's that real, so I hit em with that realness
Charlie Row Camponeros ese
Doing real shit
Sit back and relax, guns clap and that's that
As a matter of fact, brains splat in combat
It's that real, so I hit em with that realness
So all you studio gangsters gonna feel this
Perpitrating, you faking the funk
Quit bumping your gums
Porque estos vatos don't play ese where I come from

It's that real, so I hit em with that realness
Charlie Row Camponeros ese
Doing real shit
Sit back and relax, guns clap and that's that
As a matter of fact, brains splat in combat
It's that real, so I hit em with that realness
So all you studio gangsters gonna feel this
Perpitrating, you faking the funk
Quit bumping your gums
Porque estos vatos don't play ese where I come from