[Intro: Sir Michael Rocks]
Yeah
Real
Real, real, real
Real, real
Yeah
I'ma tell y'all 'bout 'em

[Verse 1: Sir Michael Rocks]
I knew a killer named Pluggo, kept a smile on his face
Thumped the bouncer in the lobby waiting in line at the Ace
I knew a killer named Noonie, a goonie with them H blocks
He used to like to fuck on tape, then make his date watch
I knew a killer named Keith, came from the villas
As a shorty, usеd to give us fifty dollars every Christmas
Snookеrs was a killer, we had Spanish together
Them dark circles around his eyes said he worked for the devil
I used to make him laugh when I got kicked out of class
The first n***a to rob a plug for a brick of some cash
I knew a killer named Bruno, my first time in the D
He made sure I was good, he treat me like family
I picked him up in his hood, he threw the blick behind a tree
Then he hopped in the whip, I said, "You good without the heat?"
"That particular pistol got bunch of bodies in the street
And if they pull us over, I don't want no problems 'cause of me"
Real n***a, will spill you, but his heart was way bigger
Ironic, nicest n***as I knew was real killers

[Chorus: Sir Michael Rocks]
Aha, real killers
Yeah, ah-ah, real killers
Yeah, uh-huh, real killers
Got love for real, real, real, real, real killers
Real killers

[Verse 2: Sir Michael Rocks]
Big T, he was a killer, a Caribbean n***a
He cook the fuck outta jerk snapper, grill it and smoke it
His brother Phillip was a killer too
He drove the Sprinter down to Texas
On that South by Southwest shit
We was lit, big bags of okie on the highway
Played a lil' Hall and Oates and then some Sade
My cousin Cortez still up in the feds
He could dance like Bobby 'til them Latin Kings shot him
Always kept a Cutlass and a big-ass smile
Always nice to the shorties whenever we came around and
Then I heard stories 'bout when he was at war with
Them same LK's, he would dress like a homeless and
Push a grocery cart with guns at the bottom of it
And go into they territory, boy, you gotta love it
But he was funny as a motherfucker out in public
I'll write a movie 'bout this n***a if I got a budget
[Chorus: Sir Michael Rocks]
Yup, yup, real killers
Got love for real, real
Aha, real killers
Yeah, ah-ah, real killers
Yeah, uh-huh, real killers
Got love for real, real, real, real, real killers
Real killers

[Verse 3: Boldy James]
Knew a killer named Robby, never fucked with the help
He had about ten, twenty bodies under his belt
Killed the plug, took his wife, old lady was beautiful
Got him slayed and she still made him pay for the funeral
Knew a killer named Reddy, came home from a triple
[?] touching soon, he been gone for a nickel
Knew a killer named Frankie, he was nice with the [peel?]
Never had a CPL, just a license to kill
Well mannered, might not look like the type but he will
Caught his first framework with Francois and Khalil
Got his revenge but shit don't look as nice as it feel
Was on the run in the Chi with Sir Mike and Tennille
Got behind him, turnt off, made a right at the yield
Tryna avoid me catching my third strike in the field
Growing up in Detroit, most of us grew to be murderers
Nicest n***as that I ever knew will do you the scurviest
Real killers