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[Fat Joe:] |
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Yeah* |
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This is goin out.. |
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to all the live motherfuckers, knowhatI'msayin? |
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All the real niggaz |
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Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens |
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California |
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LaBella Puerto Rico, wherever the fuck you from |
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KnowhatI'msayin? Yeah |
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This story takes place, back in the South Bronx |
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where at the age of 14 I was already knockin off punks (yeah!) |
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And suckers were scared to death -- every time I walked by |
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I hear them niggaz take their last breath (ahhh..) |
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See I just didn't give a fuck - and if you had a C-skin |
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a leather bomber, you was gettin stuck (word!) |
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That was the way it was |
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One day I went to visit my aunt, and stuck up my cuz |
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See shit was fucked up back then |
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No matter what the fuck I did I never had no ends |
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And my moms was on walfare |
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Aiyyo I knew I had a father, but the nigga was never there |
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So what the fuck was I to do |
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I'm sick and tired of bein the bummiest nigga out the crew |
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I gotta get mine, I gotta get cash |
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I see an old man, I'm gonna rob him with the quick-fast |
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Give me your motherfuckin loot, papi |
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I'm gonna get paid, and can't a damn thing stop me |
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See, I'm tired of this poor shit |
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And who the cops? Well they can suck my motherfuckin dick |
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Cause all them niggaz ever do is harass |
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That's why I get glad when I hear somebody smoked that ass [gunshot] |
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Just to let ya know how I feel |
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Word em up, the fuckin shit is real |
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Hey yo, it's real |
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[Chorus: (cuts "Down on the reel to reel")] |
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Aiyyo the shit is real |
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Aiyyo it's real |
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Word up, the shit is real |
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[Fat Joe] |
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Now I'm sixteen and there's a brand new scene |
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I'm makin mad loot, gettin paid off the dope fiends (word) |
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Keep the shit in check, in order |
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and my main man Tone was fuckin everybody else's daughter |
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See everybody knew in town |
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that Joe and Tone had shit locked down |
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And a nigga wouldn't test me |
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It seems like every other day the fuckin cops arrest me (yea!) |
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But the shit will never stick |
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I make one phone call and be out like quick |
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Cause Uncle Dan had my back |
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And now niggaz gettin jealous cause they know I'm livin fat |
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Talkin shit around the way and on the block |
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But never in my face, cause they knew I packed a glock |
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And my crew is mad deep |
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A bunch of crazy Puerto Ricans, so aiyyo don't sleep (word!) |
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And all you bitch ass niggaz know the deal |
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Check it out, the fuckin shit is real |
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Hey yo, it's real |
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[Chorus: (cuts "Down on the reel to reel")] |
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Aiyyo it's real |
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The fuckin shit is real |
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Yeah.. aiyyo it's real |
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[Fat Joe] |
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Check it out |
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Let me let ya know why I made this song (why?) |
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Brothers can't deal with the real, word is bond |
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I'm sick and tired of these fake ass niggaz |
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sayin that they catchin bodies when they never pulled a trigga |
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I know your style, I've seen it before |
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You wear an army suit, now you think you're hardcore |
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Drinkin on your 40's, smokin on your blunts |
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Can't afford a chain so you wear gold fronts, yeah |
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You're fakin the funk, kid |
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And you'll be gettin it up the ass if you ever did a fuckin bid |
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It's time to separate the real from the phony |
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The name is Fat Joe, punk, act like you know me |
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I come equipped with the ruff shit |
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Nowadays I can't believe the bull rappers come up with |
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And all ya bitch-ass niggaz know the deal |
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Check it out, the fuckin shit is real |
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Hey yo, it's real |
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[Chorus: (cuts "Down on the reel to reel")] |
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Aiyyo the shit is real |
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Aiyyo it's real |
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The fuckin shit is real |
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[Fat Joe] |
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Word up! |
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I wanna say peace to my peeps, The Beatnuts |
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Messengers of Funk, Strickly Roots |
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My man Funk Flex, Zulu Nation |
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Jazzy J in the house |
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Diamond D, the whole Diggin' in the Crates crew |
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And rest in peace to my man Tony Montana |
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Aiyyo, I'm out, word is bond |
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The shit is real |
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[cuts "Down on the reel to reel"] |
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Aiyyo |
