Real Talk

by Prose (Steady & Efeks)

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  • Digital Album

    Immediate download of 3-track album in your choice of high-quality MP3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire.

    Check out the official video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HNzTLl_GcCs
    iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/album/real-talk-single/id473875804

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1.
03:37
lyrics
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2.
03:36
lyrics
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3.
03:37
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about

BBP11: Real Talk

credits

released 31 October 2011
Produced and mixed by Steady
Vocals: Efeks
Design: Big Tim
Recorded and Engineered by Steady @ The Boom Bap Bunker
Mastering: Statik

tags

tags: hip-hop/rap bbp beats boom bap professionals dark side of the boom efeks hip hop instrumental hip-hop prose rap rap & hip-hop real talk steady steady rock uk hip hop London

license

all rights reserved

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about

BBP Records is an independent label established in 2004. A name synonymous with authentic underground Hip Hop. All physical orders come with accompanying free digital download. Check the merch section for bundles and clothing. Keep it Boom Bap!

discography

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shipping and returns

Track Name: Real Talk (Radio Vocal)
Verse 1
Allow the road talk, kill the aggy chat,
Special Efeks, I kick a rap like a hacky sack,
Rocking a Boom Bap tee and some baggy slacks,
The old to the new, yeah I'm bringing them Ballys back,
An anorak, studying verses of the greats,
While Steady Rock gets his hands dirty in the crates,
The words are my grapes that I'm turning to fine rhyme,
I'm instant vintage, with my windows tinted -- you can't see me,
But believe me, I'm wild as an Indian swinging a Tomahawk at ya Teepee,
You talk greasy, but I don't fall for it,
If you got integrity and do it for the love, then I'm all for it,
You ain't scoring no points, I ain't loving it,
You gotta say suttin other than "Fuck the Government",
Look it's laughable, in terms of sin -- it's a cardinal,
Ya telling me to "Listen", but saying nuttin remarkable,
I'm ready for war, stockpiling an arsenal,
To shatter ya wack subject matter into particles,
I'm harming you like tugging on your underarm hair,
While you're tryna start a revolution from an armchair,
You man are gayer than an arts and crafts fair,
I'm similar to Timberlands -- ready for hard wear,
I can't bear, this new musical direction,
I'm taking it back to the beginning, we can start there.
Chorus
You want the real, I'ma give it to you straight, no chaser,
8 out of 10 cats are in it for the paper,
Living a lie, they ain't giving you the truth so,
"That's what we about to do",
I've been waiting for too long, I'm venting my spleen,
Now every man and his dog has infiltrated the scene,
You people ain't seen the dark side of the boom, so right now,
"That's what we about to do".
Verse 2
I'm surrounded by wannabe actors and actresses,
Hiding their agenda like cash in their mattresses,
Part-time political activists, claiming they're "Righteous",
But still down with criminal practises,
You toy soldiers ain't fit for the roll call,
I'm sick of you celebrity hopefuls, and so-called,
MC's that's X factor auditioning,
You don't live this culture, you're only just visiting,
You're pivoting, I stand firm,
An insurmountable mountain, 'bout to fuck ya head up like a bad perm,
This culture's taken a bad turn,
You ain't worth shit, ya mamma shoulda swallowed ya dad's sperm,
I'm breaking the regime, running the a-team,
Putting plans in action, you're stuck in a daydream,
That's why your endeavours never bear no fruit,
Cos you can't spit a bar without smoking a zoot,
Pull ya pants up and lace ya boots,
You're in the presence of a General -- better stand straight, salute,
You lift weights while I raise the roof,
The reason why we getting fucked, cos you make the UK look cute,
In public, you talk about supporting your own,
How many homegrown albums do you actually own?
I throw stones at ya glass home, your cover's blown,
I dare you to battle me, the gauntlet's thrown.
Chorus
Track Name: Real Talk (Real Vocal)
Verse 1
Allow the road talk, kill the aggy chat,
Special Efeks, I kick a rap like a hacky sack,
Rocking a Boom Bap tee and some baggy slacks,
The old to the new, yeah I'm bringing them Ballys back,
An anorak, studying verses of the greats,
While Steady Rock gets his hands dirty in the crates,
The words are my grapes that I'm turning to fine rhyme,
I'm instant vintage, with my windows tinted -- you can't see me,
But believe me, I'm wild as an Indian swinging a Tomahawk at ya Teepee,
You talk greasy, but I don't fall for it,
If you got integrity and do it for the love, then I'm all for it,
You ain't scoring no points, I ain't loving it,
You gotta say suttin other than "Fuck the Government",
Look it's laughable, in terms of sin -- it's a cardinal,
Ya telling me to "Listen", but saying nuttin remarkable,
I'm ready for war, stockpiling an arsenal,
To shatter ya wack subject matter into particles,
I'm harming you like tugging on your underarm hair,
While you're tryna start a revolution from an armchair,
You man are gayer than an arts and crafts fair,
I'm similar to Timberlands -- ready for hard wear,
I can't bear, this new musical direction,
I'm taking it back to the beginning, we can start there.
Chorus
You want the real, I'ma give it to you straight, no chaser,
8 out of 10 cats are in it for the paper,
Living a lie, they ain't giving you the truth so,
"That's what we about to do",
I've been waiting for too long, I'm venting my spleen,
Now every man and his dog has infiltrated the scene,
You people ain't seen the dark side of the boom, so right now,
"That's what we about to do".
Verse 2
I'm surrounded by wannabe actors and actresses,
Hiding their agenda like cash in their mattresses,
Part-time political activists, claiming they're "Righteous",
But still down with criminal practises,
You toy soldiers ain't fit for the roll call,
I'm sick of you celebrity hopefuls, and so-called,
MC's that's X factor auditioning,
You don't live this culture, you're only just visiting,
You're pivoting, I stand firm,
An insurmountable mountain, 'bout to fuck ya head up like a bad perm,
This culture's taken a bad turn,
You ain't worth shit, ya mamma shoulda swallowed ya dad's sperm,
I'm breaking the regime, running the a-team,
Putting plans in action, you're stuck in a daydream,
That's why your endeavours never bear no fruit,
Cos you can't spit a bar without smoking a zoot,
Pull ya pants up and lace ya boots,
You're in the presence of a General -- better stand straight, salute,
You lift weights while I raise the roof,
The reason why we getting fucked, cos you make the UK look cute,
In public, you talk about supporting your own,
How many homegrown albums do you actually own?
I throw stones at ya glass home, your cover's blown,
I dare you to battle me, the gauntlet's thrown.
Chorus