Letra de I Really Mean It

[Produced by Just Blaze]

[Sample of "I Got Over Love" by Major Harris]
Oh Major, don't go!

[Intro: Cam'ron]
Young Guru, Just Blaze, Killa
Diplomats, huh
Juelz Santana, Jim Jones, Freekey Zekey
Hoffa, Dash, uhh

[Verse 1: Cam'ron]
Killa, uh
Y'all niggas dreamed it, I've seen it
Body warm, heart anemic (I really mean it)
Coke, a nigga steamed it, fiends I leaned 'em
Beamer leaned it (I really mean it)
Guns, really beaming, rarely miss, what's really good?
Bikes, wheelie and creaming (I really mean it)
I'm a, genius, Papadopoulos, never lenient
On your Zenith (I really mean it) Killa
Bag me more mutts, they actually all ducks
Caddy more trucks, it's Daddy Warbucks
And you Orphan Annie
Ma, take off your panties
Seat soft and sandy (I really mean it)
Yeah, let's get lost in candy
I got lofts in Boston, Austin, flossing of course Miami
Reno, Nevada, sip pino colada
Mama I've seen all the Prada (I really mean it)
I rock, Mauri, Fennix
Road to glory, seen it, you seen it (I really mean it)
The game: abuse it, it's pain in music
But this year, wrist wear remains the bluest
I get lame and lose it, beef? Came to do it
Aim and shoot it, flames turn your brains the fluid
Y'all just kids, see what I just did
Take a couple bars off, let Just live

[Interlude: Jim Jones]
Yeah, now that's powerful music man
You need to pop something and roll something (I really mean it)
Killa, we did it man, I got your back forever
Dipset (I really mean it)
And them lames, we pop them sideways and drag them faggots
(I really mean it)

[Verse 2: Cam'ron]
Okay, we back in
Mami listen (I really mean it)
Hey yo lock my garage, rock my massage
Fuck it, bucket by Osh Kosh Bgosh
Golly I'm gully, look at his galoshes
Gucci, gold, platinum plaque collages
From collabos, ghostwriting for assholes
Wanna use my brain, they give Killa mad dough
It's all good, increase Killa cash flow
Increase my fame, that's why Killa smash hoes
You'll get side swiped, look at my life
First movie ever, merked out Mekhi Phife
And papi got jerked out of pies twice
Dipset, we working with five dice
Cee-lo and craps, c-notes and stacks
I send bodies with "read this note" attached
"Ya young'n fucked with boys in the hood"
Gave her a son like Ricky from "Boyz N the Hood"
On the couch bloody, old lady sighing
Wifey screaming (I really mean it)
Pissy little baby crying, fuck up man
Shit, there you seen it (I really mean it)
Fam, man, you terry cloth, that mean you very soft
Gravy Mercedes, add the cranberry sauce
Killa

[Outro: Jim Jones]
Yeah, gangstas ride man
Flex we got you, guns up (I really mean it)
And all my ladies, man, the ghetto's a saditty
I need you, I want you (I really mean it)
Oh, pop something, roll something
Get twisted, that's on Jim, nigga (I really mean it)
Harlem! Man we here to stay
It's nothing left to say man (I really mean it)
Eastside, and as for that lame man
Now see I ain't even gon' say your last name
Cause that's mine, I catch you, you know what it is
You faggot!
I ain't gon' get to hype on you man, we gon' bury ya
Holla! See if you 'bout it, 'bout it
Cause we is (I really mean it)
NYC!