The Hill That's Real

[Verse 1] I'm on the hill where the shit is real You would suppose it's all about money, hoes, and clothes Territories in the smash like a crash from blasting It's all about sex and a sass assassins It always gotta be a flick up The cops making a pickup Or niggas getting money from a stickup Lost boys running around like a mad man Killing, or either getting killed from a bad plan One shorty had got his life tooken From a sound like this, you know it gotta be in Brooklyn They take it off as if they gotta start street That's why the brothers on the Hill will bust a nigga in a heartbeat Yo, everybody want to live long So you bust another brother for looking in your fucking face for 'im I gotta live it, plus roll with a temper Cause niggas go out the same way they get ya Every other day, somebody gets born And the niggas on the corner playing the wall like handball The only one remain in a bad game Life's a pain; niggas retire from the knuckle game Some niggas are killers when you drink Baccardi But when they sober, they wouldn't bust a balloon at a birthday party It's easy to tell what type of shit sells From the streets of the hometown I'm pushing a Beemer, smoking a fat ounce I'm from the Hill where the motherfuckers are buck wild Niggas catching bodies most of the time beating trial Like the Island, cocksuckers'll get touched Niggas want beef, but hold a grudge like a clutch Niggas on the deep dirty pack guns Cause up on the real Hill, it's blow holes, money, no fair ones I'm on my own cause my name's in a box Only in jail, they playing for keeps up on the Hill That's real [Verse 2] Niggas get slayed on the regular Fuck the crack game, now funeral homes getting paid No time for niggas doing something for nothing And it's hectic, so now I pack a burner like I'm going hunting I feel on the Hill in the 'ville, niggas build as they deal But to make the bill, they gotta kill Niggas'll murder another nigga and cold jet Then come back in five minutes to the scene of the set I seen cops playing niggas like they was suckers Niggas started flipping, bringing the ruckus to the motherfuckers Punk-ass cops are faggots Cops try to knock niggas, niggas be dropping cops like a bad habit A little shorty was a beggar But he saved and went abroad and did a job from a bootlegger He got props from the boys and he pulled the girls With two shots, little shorty thought he ruled the world The shit he had, he was too rough with it Little shorty had a heart like his name was David Berkowitz The type of little motherfucker with a hard figure New school shorty jibed with the wrong niggas He harassed the wrong niggas for cash And I ain't trying to get brass But I'mma put shit in a smash Let his little ass know I'm playing for keeps And that's to kill Up on the Hill that's real [Verse 3] Niggas are S.T.D. -- scared to death Shorty was a vet, and a threat Handed him beef like a chef Straight up and down, the shorty was a strong nigga Yep, he was, but shorty fucked with the wrong nigga He stuck a nigga for his jewels And the ghetto with two shots Niggas are packing 16 shots or better He said, "Your money, run your jewels and cash" He said no one gon' get hurt, it was a little nigga blast He bust his only two shots and didn't hit Money bust back and let off a whole clip Shorty ran and stopped and dropped Here comes the cops -- they found his ass in a lot Shorty died because another nigga struck Niggas ain't joking -- you play pussy, you get fucked Shit is ill so I chill and do things on how I feel They playing for keeps up on the Hill that's real