Dizzee Rascal - Where's da G's lyrics

(Dizzee Rascal) Liar liar, pants on fire, you're not gangsta, you're not street You just make yourself sound gangsta when you're rapping on the beat You ain't got yourself in no life-threatening situations yet You're no dealer, you're not balling, you just get yourself in debt You're a fan of hip hop, wa*king when you hear them rappers talk Love to sit and listen but we know that you don't walk the walk What's with all the fake aggression, I can see that it's not true I know k**ers, I know gangsters, and they never heard of you You ain't robbed nobody, shanked nobody, you ain't bust no gun You ain't seen no ghetto action, who do you think you fooling, son? You should pull your trousers up, you know it ain't your type of look You're no playa, you're no pimp, I think that you should read a book And settle, find yourself a pretty girl and settle You know that if it's on, that you ain't drawing for no metal I know them rap songs got you thinking you're some kind of G Well if that's the case, then que sera and what will be will be Where's the G's? Where's the stars? Where's the whips? Where's the cars? Where's the cribs? And where's the yards? Cause all I see is hype Where's the dough? Where's the cash? Where's the hoes? Where's the gash? Where's the blicks? And where's the mash? Cause all I see is hype Too many moots on the TV How many real crooks on the TV? All I hear is dead hooks on the TV Being real these days ain't easy Too many moots on the TV How many real crooks on the TV? All I see is bare poop on the TV Being real these days ain't easy (Bun B) Well it's big Bun B and I'm back again, talking that sh** on the track again Too many motherf**ers be lying about selling, buying and trafficking I'm like, really though, what's happening, you boys talk about that crack again? Cause we don't believe you, need more people, y'all might as well just pack it in Show me the paper you're stacking in, show me the blocks you got on hold Show me your workers, show me your shooters, lemme see the neighbourhood you control Lemme see if you a boss, and if motherf**ers is scared of you And if somebody trying to take your sh**, let me see what you prepared to do Are you ready to go to war? Are you ready to shoot to k**? Are you really gonna man-up or b**h-up? Just tell the truth for real Are you ready to take a life, walk up to 'em and squeeze the trigger I don't think so, 'cause you ain't built like that, so just be easy, n***a Cause you know you ain't 'bout no drama and you know that you really don't want it So stay the f** out of the way when them trill-a** n***as is on it Dizzee Ras and UGK, you know we stay connected Trill recognize trill, so just respect it and check it And tell me Where's the G's? Where's the stars? Where's the whips? Where's the cars? Where's the cribs? And where's the yards? Cause all I see is hype Where's the dough? Where's the cash? Where's the hoes? Where's the gash? Where's the blicks? And where's the mash? Cause all I see is hype Too many moots on the TV How many real crooks on the TV? All I hear is dead hooks on the TV Being real these days ain't easy Too many moots on the TV How many real crooks on the TV? All I see is bare poop on the TV Being real these days ain't easy (Pimp C) Where the Benz and where the hoes? Candy n***as with candy clothes Where the c**aine? Where the o's? Where the SoundScan, where the shows? You's a pimp, b**h, where the track? Where the diamonds and where the Lac You say that you, that you, in hot pursuit But I ain't never seen you with a prostitute I got everything I say Don't believe me, ask Lil' J On the West ask Ice-T f** good but my dick ain't free So hood I used to whip the D Patron and wood, when I'm in the B Sweet Jones, Tony Snow, Percy Mack, Pimp C b**h, I got a bunch of names Getting head in the H.O.V. lane Getting red, I let my nuts hang Wear a lot of red, but it ain't no gang Chased by the feds, but it ain't no thang I guess they think I still sell c**aine 92 carrots in my chain Jumping out a red-candy thing Never snitch, never tell, get caught up, go back to jail Before I tell them hoes sh**, f** the law, they can eat my dick The main n***as that pop the trunk Go to the pen and get with them punks Then come home, trying to act tough When they was up there, getting f**ed in the bu*t Where's the G's? Where's the stars? Where's the whips? Where's the cars? Where's the cribs? And where's the yards? Cause all I see is hype Where's the dough? Where's the cash? Where's the hoes? Where's the gash? Where's the blicks? And where's the mash? Cause all I see is hype Too many moots on the TV How many real crooks on the TV? All I hear is dead hooks on the TV Being real these days ain't easy Too many moots on the TV How many real crooks on the TV? All I see is bare poop on the TV Being real these days ain't easy