Still Real

[Fat Joe] It's so depressing, uh.. Be the realest shit I ever wrote (Money and cars bitches) Shit Is Real Part 2.. (drugs) modern day.. (society yaknow?) See what it's like to walk in my shoes It ain't all fun and games (ya heard?) Yo yo I'm sick and tired of stressin, every days a different lesson I'm free-fallin tryna leave this deep depression My son Joey still slow, my moms got cancer in her throat My big brother sniffin dope Lemme know how many motherfucker wanna be just like me Screamed at and treated like shit by your wifey This hot bitch be sweatin the coke cash My baby mother think I grow dough out my ass It's like, how much fight I got left in me? Niggas won't be happy till they bring the fuckin death of me But you never see Joe look weak or flow off beat And Charlie sees the board in four more weeks [Hook] 2x You gotta walk where I walked Bang where I bang Slang where I hang To get where I'm going to Stay where I stay Blaze who I blazed Pay dues how I payed To get where I'm going to [Fat Joe] Uh, yo, the South Bronx, nine years later Ain't nuttin changed, niggas still playa haters T.S. the best that's done it, forever live and never front it Reminisce of when I used to hold heat and tell niggas "run it" Now we flooded with jewels, hundreds of dudes Crowd the Coliseum to hear they favorite tunes Then at the time of our prime we caught a sick one The angels came down, took my twin Big Pun Shit were unbalanced throughout the whole world All I could do was try to provide for his seeds and his old girl Hope your listenin, tell Ton' that we still missin him I'm like a prisoner in jail with no visitors [Hook] 2x [Fat Joe] Yeah, uh, aiyyo the third verse is dedicated to you Even though you switched teams, I'm praying for you We used to stay up all night countin dollar for dollar You was my son's godfather, where the fuck is your honor? Can't even rap the shit we did together You'd probably have me shackled locked down doin bids forever You broke the first code I'd like to twist ya wifey till it roasts gold Snitch nigga, turned state to sold ya soul How could a nigga that was clappin in the streets Start yappin to the deez, like what I rightly should believe? Like ever verse is a charge, for every hurt there's a scar I never once tried to hurt cha'll I'm just tryna do me, sell a few CD's Buy land in Miami and cop a new B come on! [Joe talking] Motherfuckers think it's sweet Think a nigga got money and a nigga don't feel pain You ain't never feel my pain You don't know what the fuck I'm goin through Niggas lookin at me like, "He got it made" Like I ain't lose Pun, my grandfather a week later My aunt a month later Like my fuckin sister ain't in a coma right now! You motherfuckers don't know pain! Let's get one thing clear; money'll never buy you happiness My true niggas walk with me now! [Hook] 2x