Kool G Rap - Real Life (A Cappella) lyrics

[Intro: Kool G Rap] This one is for my peeps out on the street and six feet, baby. (Uh, uh). Watch yourself, kid. The jakes be deep and on the creep now. (What the deal? What the deal?). This one is for my duns that's upstate and doing long bids. (For real, kid). We stay repping for Queens, infrared beams [Verse 1: Kool G Rap] Ayyo, I'll only rock with fam and plot-planning n***as that co*k the cannons Run with the ox-jamming n***as, do a whole bid in the box standing Eight n***as that's quick to hop in the van and co*k Glocks and Put the drop on top of the whole block gambling, turn in the nice linen Gun shots got 'em scrambling. Leave 'em for cops to examine The streets are frigid, so I speak it vivid Sleep with it, love it, and live it. If you want one of these slugs I'ma give it and pop you 'till you drop liquid Your days are numbered—I'll keep dropping the digits Bodies get sent to the chop shop like Civics All for popping up on the wrong blocks to visit The wrong spot to risk it Nothing but hollow tops in the biscuits Get helicopter-lifted out, you hot lizards Keeping far from the child sh**—.40 cal. spit Running with wild cliques, dead you and beat the murder trial sh** 12-valve whips. The strip is scorching Flooded with drug enforcement lawmen stripping your fortune Shorties are like the Statue of Liberty They stay lifting the torch and orphans spit the fifth often Mad chicks get abortions. Weak ones lay stiff in a coffin Federal stakeouts, spots get raided, shots get traded Coming to lock everything rock-related. Keeping the cell blocks Overly populated. Incarcerated Scarfaces intoxicated The knives get operated, some get chopped and faded Leaving to bleed, in need for medical aid from sharp metal, get laid When sh** get hot, it's hard to settle the blaze The ghetto we praise, n***a [Hook: Kool G Rap] (x2) The life you hold is ‘bout good as the dice you roll Be careful, kid. The streets is ice-cold The thirsty worms out working the night patrol For the price of gold. And the story of our life get told, n***a [Verse 2: Kool G Rap] Ayyo, how many make it out? It's one in a million Scared to d**h ‘cause one of your children Just might be the next one to get stressed in front of the building Dumbing out, pulling guns out, running with villains Living in pain, kid in the street game Trapped in these blocks where the heat flame Where n***as reach for they thing, speak slang Chop your grill until the meat hang Busting their gats, run in the deep gangs Look out for the cheap dames that set you up Invite you to the crib to wet you up, lift your necklace up Bringing a clique to lift and mess you up Smith and Wess you up. Never press your luck Be prepared to bust. How many you dare to trust? Keep your friends close and enemies closer I'll pour double shots of Remi to toast your Friendly ghost until it give me ulcers Send some Guineas to roast ya If they can't approach us, send me the semi toasters Give 'em the Kennedy doses: fifty in your boulder Life is about bending them slimmies over. Plenty Bentleys and Rovers Half-naked women for limmy chauffeurs. Crib with the Fendi sofas Black Cosa Nostras, crack Jehovas stacking like Sosa Tailor-made suits with Gucci penny loafers, MAC-10s in holsters For rats and vultures. Having DT's package and coach us The raps are vulgar, blow the backs of cobras Run with the gat exploders, gunslingers Call us the slum-hangers, the brick-a-ton bringers The slingers keep one in the chamber, baby [Hook: Kool G Rap] (x2) The life you hold is ‘bout good as the dice you roll Be careful, kid. The streets is ice-cold The thirsty worms out working the night patrol For the price of gold. And the story of our life get told, n***a