[Intro]
Yeah
This is goin' out to all the live motherf**ers, knowhatumsayin'
All the real n***as, Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, California
La Perla, Puerto Rico, whatever the f** you're from, youknowhatumsayin'
Yeah
[Verse 1]
This story takes place, back in the South Bronx
Where at the age of fourteen I was already to knockin' off punks (yeah!)
And s**ers were scared to d**h
Every time I walked by I hear them n***as take their last breath (ahhh..)
See, I just didn't give a f**
And if you had a sheep skin leather bomber you was getting stuck (word!)
That was the way it was
One day I went to visit my aunt, and stuck up my cous
See, something was f**ed up back then
No matter what the f** I did, I never had no ends
And my moms was on welfare
Aiyyo I knew I had a father, but the n***a was never there
So what the f** was I had to do?
I'm sick and tired to being the bummiest n***a 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
Gimme your motherf**ing loot, papi
I'm going to get paid and can't a damn thing stop me
See, I'm tired of this poor sh**
And who the cops?
Well they can s** my motherf**in' dick
Cause all them n***as ever do is hara**
That's why I get glad when I hear somebody smoked that a**
Just to let ya know how I feel, word 'em up
The f**in' sh** is real
[Hook (*background cuts "Down on the real"*)]
Aiyyo it's real
Aiyyo the sh** is real
The f**in sh** is real
Aiyyo it's real
[Verse 2]
Now I'm sixteen and there's a brand new scene
I'm makin' mad loot, gettin' paid off the dope fiends
Keeping sh** in checking order
And my main man Tone was f**ing everybody else's daughter
See everybody knew in town
That Joe and Tone had sh** locked down
And a n***a wouldn't test me
It seems like every other day the f**ing cops arrest me
But the sh** would never stick
I make one phone call and be out right quick
Cause Uncle Dan had my back
And now n***as getting jealous cause they know I'm living fat
Talking sh** around the way and on the block
But never in my face cause they knew I pack the Glock
And my crew is mad deep
A buncha crazy Puerto Ricans, so ayeo don't sleep
And all you b**h a** n***as know the deal, check it out
The f**ing sh** is real
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Let me let ya know why I made this song
Brothers can't deal with the real, word is bond
I'm sick and tired of these fake-a** n***as
Saying that they're catching bodies when they never pulled a trigger
I know your style, I've seen it before
You wearing army suit, now you think you're hardcore
Drinking on your 40's, smoking on your blunts
Can't afford a chain so you wear gold fronts yeah
You fakin' the funk, kid
And you'd be getting it up the a** if you ever did a f**ing 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 sh**
Nowadays I can't believe the bull rappers come up with
And all y'all b**h a** n***as know the deal, check it out
The f**ing sh** is real
[Hook]
[Outro]
Word up
I wanna say peace to my peeps, the Beatnuts
Messengers Of Funk, strictly Roots
My man Four 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
Aiyo, I'm out, word is bond
The sh** is real
(*Premier cuts "Fat Joe's in town"*)