The Shit Is Real

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