This Iz Real (Clean)

* features new second verse [Shyheim] Yeah yeah, hah It don't stop Sid, Vince, Tyler Ta'He, Rubbabandz Killa Kane, Redman Let's go to war, baby! [Chorus: Shyheim] I keep it real, y'all know the deal Every man for himself, similar to a battlefield Never wack, its a straight up fact Or dip down in black once you hear the clat-clat [Shyheim] It's be real, ain't no time to cash no butterflies Pass the St. Ide's, screwface is my disguise Don't look me in my eyes that ain't wise The first chump that jumps is the first chump that lies Raw, spell that backward that's war Lay low scarecrow I'm knockin at your front door Pointin a pistol to your peekhole, sucker Warning: my trigga finga gets pushy Blaow, a single {shot} straight to the headpiece Decrease the peace and watch the drama increase See I'm ruthless, pistol whip a clown toothless Me gettin hit, ludicris I'm on my P's and my Q's Try to put your foot in my shoes kid You gotta pay the diggy-dues I ain't the one to play Pammy I leave the head all red like that little orphan Annie I'm dressed in black like Streets of Harlem Pat punk's pockets down with no problem And get away just like an Unsolved Mystery You don't believe me G, check my pedigree And you can feel how I deal with the {god} damn steel This ain't no game, it's real Chorus 2x [Shyheim] Now what? Punk, run and get you guns And premeditate on murderin me, the Godfather's Son And I'm from Shaolin, home of the Gotti's ? thugs catch the body's, catch where I be In the heart of the projects doin foul things Livin like kings, known for pullin stings Grimy as ever, roll my mom's when I'm broke Keep my ? up to par, never had a tec-tote My record label and the FCC don't like what I'm sayin So on the radio, you might not hear this joint playin I got styles like a, prayin mantis Watch me do damage, pin that {nigga} to the canvas My dirty broken language is a secret Shaolin swordstyle, and never do we teach it, so peep it Wu-Tang Killa Bee on the swarm Word bond, I wet your block up like a rain storm You think not, you see red dots on your forehead, you're Elvis Messin with these kids from Shaolin, you'll get dealt with Like Tip and Poetic, watch me set it with the quickness Shyheim the good Son comes soon on 12-inches The one man gang, never need an army Killuminati got me at my window with a shotti Like Malcolm, ready to touch anything that moves Everyday lifestyle be a hustle like Smoothe Chorus 2x [Shyheim] Brown Hornet, uh, Down Low Recka June Lova, Big L Gill-Gill, love you kid Tump, Big Un P's, Big Grease Big Red, hold it down baby Uh, hah Big Bogey, represent baby Uh, Little Kane You my baby boy, represent kid