Music Video
My Nigga for Real Lyrics – Young Zee
Soundtrack Album: 8 Mile
My Nigga for Real Text
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 b**ches, 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 b**ches
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)
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 b**ches, 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 b**ches
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)
8 Mile
Soundtrack Lyrics for Movie, 2002
Track Listing
›Lose Yourself
Eminem
›8 Mile Road
Eminem
›Run Rabbit Run
Eminem
›Luv Me
Obie Trice/ Eminem/ 50 Cent
›Places to Go
50 Cent
›Wanksta
50 Cent
›Rap Game
D-12/50 Cent
›Wanna Be Me
Nas
›8 Mile Runnin
Jay Z/Freeway
›My Nigga for Real
Young Zee
›Battle
Gangstarr (gang Starr)
›Spit Shine
Xzibit
›Time of My Life
Macy Gray
›Wasting My Time
Boomkat
›R.A.K.I.M.
Rakim
›Stimulate
Eminem
›Adrenline Rush
Obie Trice
›Rap Name
Obie Trice
›'Til I Collapse Freestyle
50 Cent, Shady Rec. Eminem, Dr. Dre
›Gangsta
Joe Beast
›The Weekend
Brooklyn
›California
Shauma
›Sweet Home Alabama (Eminemz Version)
Eminem (B rabbit and Future)
›What i can (Feat hip-hop and Ak47)
Lil'ken
›8 Mile Battles
›8 Mile Battles - Split
Rabbit(Eminem)vs. Lickety Split
›Lotto
Rabbit(Eminem)vs. Lotto
›Papa Doc
Rabbit(Eminem) vs. Papa Doc
›I Live at Home in a Trailor
Eminem
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