The Shit is Real

[Intro: Fat Joe] Yeah This is goin out.. To all the live motherfuckers, knowhatI'msayin? All the real niggas Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens California LaBella Puerto Rico, wherever the fuck you from KnowhatI'msayin? Yeah [Verse One] 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 niggas take their last breath (ahhh..) See I just didn't give a fuck - and if you had a C-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 cuz See shit was fucked up back then No matter what the fuck I did I never had no ends And my moms was on wealthfare Aiyyo 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 niggas 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 [Verse Two] 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 niggas 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 niggas know the deal Check it out, the fuckin shit is real Hey yo, it's real [Chorus: (*cuts "Down on the reel to reel"*)] Aiyyo it's real The fuckin shit is real Yeah.. aiyyo it's real [Verse Three] 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 niggas 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 niggas know the deal Check it out, 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 The fuckin shit is real [Outro] Word up! I wanna say peace to my peeps, The Beatnuts Mesanjarz of Funk, Strickly Roots My man Funk Flex, Zulu Nation Jazzy Jay in the house Diamond D, the whole Diggin' in the Crates crew And rest in peace to my man Tony Montana Aiyyo, I'm out, word is bond The shit is real (*cuts "Down on the reel to reel"*) Aiyyo