MC Breed
Comin Real Again
[Intro: 2Pac]
Guess who's back
Guess who's back muthaf**ka, big ballin' a** muthaf**kin' Breed
Givin' you what ya need, yeah, smokin' a gang of weed
Hit them fools, n***a

[Verse 1: MC Breed]
Come one, come all
N***as get the beat down
Retreat, creep or feel the heat of the Breed sound
Collect facts, then attack like I'm s'pposed to
Ya boy's goin' left on n***as and them hoes too
It's me, that n***a 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 a** n***as I broke
'Cause big Breed, can do ya while I'm smokin' my dope, and tryin' cope
Catch up as this sh*t 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, mainenterain the crowd
Make moves to improve, so I can build a bigger rep
The trigger finger strapped, I wanna see another n***a step
I play the cards, lost by your dingy Mista Gilligan
The mighty mad writer's straight-up comin' real again

[Interlude: 2Pac]
Buck buck muthaf**ka
Right at your muthaf**kin' a**
This sh*t too strong for a muthaf**kin' vest
So watch your chest and your dome
Leave Breed the f**k alone
We sendin' n***as to the f**kin' cemetery

[Verse 2: Breed]
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 sh*t
I'm black, and I was born with a survival kit, uh
Ain't sh*t but spit, in the beer that I'm drinkin'
I gotta get paid, I gotta get paid, and that's what a n***a be thinkin'
You sleep hoes, I'm puttin' a peephole in your forehead
Run 'til your toes is numb, go test your broke head
Breed's got n***as at your back once again punk
Told you ain't no future in that sh*t, but you still front
When will they realize, I got the feel again
The mighty mad writer's comin' real again

[Interlude: 2Pac]
Buck buck, biiinnng
That's the motherf**kin' sound as we buckin' mothaf**kas down
Yea n***a, run but you can't outrace this motherf**kin' bullet
Breed, pull it, they can't fade you boy
[Verse 3: Breed]
Once mo', toe to toe? I don't think so
Bird sales, and knockin' n***as out like Ridd**k Bowe
You ain't the play, you know the play so don't say sh*t
Get 'em up and find your a** gettin' up off the pavement
Wavin' the sh*t, beggin' n***as to just straight quit
But f**k that, a hard head can get a n***as a** kicked
I ain't lettin' up for none
Son, huh? I'm comin' real again

[Interlude: 2Pac]
Yeah, motherf**ka how you wanna play this sh*t?
We can go toe to toe, Glock for Glock, block for block
Homie to muthaf**kin' homie
But you muthaf**kas gonna feel this n***a this time
'Cause we ain't comin' back with that old bullsh*t
There's too many muthaf**kin' dead n***as for me to be takin' this here bullsh*t
That's why there's muthaf**kas in the pen' now, n***a
So pull or quit that bullsh*t, 'cause I don't wanna hear that muthaf**kin' crap
Comin' real again n***a, thought I told you muthaf**kas, I thought you knew
It's the muthaf**kin' real sh*t, muthaf**ka
Hundred percent authentic
Type of sh*t you f**kin' get chronic'd out to, you know what I'm sayin'?
So do me one of them muthaf**kin' favors, and light another f**kin' blunt
You know what I'm sayin'? A blunt muthaf**ka
Philly style, you know what I'm sayin'? Chronic n***a!
I'm talkin' 'bout laid out, played out, phat f**kin' funk
Yeah, this that type sh*t we kickin' in the 9 tre muthaf**ka
So all you muthaf**kin' big ballin' a** gangstas
You put your muthaf**kin' hand on yo' gat
And if the police roll up and say turn it down, you burn it down muthaf**ka
'Cause we comin' real again, 19 n***a 3, boy real again
We grabbin' steel again, 'cause we comin' real again
We turn the 90's to the 60's muthaf**ka
That's how we rollin'