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I'm Kif
I'm 18 and from Adelaide
I hate writing profiles, they are pointless and stupid
I'm hypocritical.
To Have every Man but to Love only One. To Wake with the Moon and Sleep with the Sun To Be a Sinner, a Saint, a Lover and Friend To Know a Beginning, but Never an End
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Jan 3, 2006
The Best Song In The Known Universe *kills self*
Young Zee - That's My Nigga Fo' Real Lyrics [Young Zee]
Uh, Zee
I got waiting haze, my customers ho's, sleep with me
We have small beef, I still sell them O's for three fifty
They know in big beef, I pop a hundred times
Be like roadkill, I live nigga's brains on one and nines
And my down bitches, they be ready to kill
I be like chill, they be like..
[Chorus]
That's my nigga for real (Yea, uh huh, I'm from the Bricks, we
be like)
That's my nigga for real (Yea, Young Zee, all my niggas from the
hood, they be like)
That's my nigga for real (Yea, B-Boy, you my nigga, talk to 'em)
[B-Boy]
Yo, I don't give a f**k if we don't sell a record
We still gon' get this money in the Bricks
Spill it, Zee
[Young Zee]
Yea, uh, yea, yea
I'm like, Santa Claus, I deliver niggas grams a raw
Straight from Panama, fiends eat it up like canavaugh
And my dimes disappear like magic wands
I sell 'em, 'til the crack of dawn and destroy every track I'm
on
Plus I have a clam packed in the back of vans
More royal than the Taliban murk you for a half a gram
(What?) I get B-Boy to drop your truck in the river
F**k some dough, we be like..
[Chorus + Young Zee ad libs]
[Young Zee]
Yea, jeah, Uh-huh-ha, yea
Scarecrow (what?), I'm trying to walk before I crawl
I want it all ever since I came out of my mama's walls
I'm trying to make so much dough when I write a song
I can write 'em all why y'all clique on the corner selling final
calls
Yea, niggas mad at us, gladiators like Maximas, we fabulous
While you fall off like Canibus's managers
My man Dee U, keep the nina peelin'
(Point 'em out, and watch me)
[Chorus + Young Zee ad libs]
[Young Zee]
Zee need Buddha, E-user, beef pre Lugers
Spittin' from our PT cruisers
My tape don't drop, I still got dough to make
Got little niggas on roller skates holding my coke and weight
Blow paper, ho chaser, dough raiser, Joe Fraizer
Sixteen cellys and four pagers
Go hype up your squad that they might f**k with ours
I just, light up cigars, go by bikes, trucks, and cars
I got (?) In Atlanta deep, 'round the street, ten grand a week
I give 'em one word to put your man to sleep
And I love my Jersey live bitches
They'll leave a nigga face, with thirty five stitches
They'll help my tie cinder blocks and push your kids
So deep in the ocean, they'll see where octopuses live
Jeah, this label deal is for Raz, Pace, and Chill
I know mad chicks, but still
[Chorus + Young Zee ad libs]
[Young Zee]
What, Bricks (Bricks, Bricks)
Posted at 05:50 pm by Kiekei
 | | | Joanna's Analysis:
January 3, 2006 06:32 PM PST
WELL, obviously our friend "Young Zee" has multiple personality disorder. In order to tell the difference between his alter egos and himself, he has to look in the mirror, and say "thas ma nigga fooooo REEEEEL". His other egos are white, you see.
The first verse describes his horrible, horrible descent into the world of drugs, and cheating people out of pills and powders, replacing them with allergy medicine and powdered sugar.
Second Verse: We're in some SERIOUS crazy territory here, people. Isn't it usually the RABBITS that disappear, and NOT the wands? Yo yo yo Zee be pullin' his tricks WRONG. Also, the Taliban line is dicey, I'm guessing a fair few white men in suits questioned him about that. "Fuck some dough" is not what it seems. Zee admitted his fetish for masturbating with cookie dough in numerous interviews, made even more pleasurable when B-boy joins in.
Third verse: Here is what I like to call the Freudian verse. Zee describes his constant overachieving, and the way in which it drove him to become the materialistic, neurotic drug dealer he is today. Watch out for the secret gay confessions, as he likens himself to fruit ripe for peeling. He's so fruity.
Fourth verse: If you can count the number of drug references in this verse, I will not give you the corresponding number of dollars. You know the part in a movie where one character summarises what's been happening for the past hour in about three sentences so stupid people can catch up. This is the musical equivalent. JUST in case you DIDN'T notice that Zee takes and deals lots of drugs, and owns lots of thing here's the proof, dumbshit. Also exposes himself as a maniacal serial killer.
Also, the last two lines should be a question. What bricks? Zee just tried to walk into a wall in a drug-induced haze, but like, totally can't see the bricks maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan.
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