sh*t Iz Real lyrics

[Verse 1: Buckshot]
Check how I kick it, when I was wicked, around the way
Hold my Tec, 'cause my n*ggas pump by day
Drugs and thieves hit the eve of the night
n*ggas who fake real, come on a real flight
Six feet deep in the creep
Mic technique got a n*gga locked down for a week
Word is bond, sh*t is on like this
Gotta move, 'cause I'm on a n*gga hit list
You know the kid with the rock from up the block
Hit him up with the Glock now his pops on my rooftop
Ridiculous to think you're hittin me
You're not hittin' me you're gettin' me upset with the threat
But I'm a little n*gga from the heart of Bucktown
My stomping ground is Brooklyn bound
f*ck what you heard, it's about what you hit
And if that's your girl, then your b*tch ain't sh*t
f*ckin' all my n*ggas 'cause they know Black Moon
sh*t iz real yo, pass that boom

[Bridge]
Ayo, I gotta dime bag, kid, word up
(f*ck that) Yeah, yeah, yeah that's that
(f*ckin' cravin' for it man)
Smif-N-Wessun
Take two and pass, muthaf*cka!
USA
Slobbin' ass n*gga
(Pass the weed, kid)
[Verse 2: Buckshot]
Never parlay without a L
Inhale the first hit for all my n*ggas locked in jail
Then go for dolo on a cool André
Shoot the wack in the back and I'm aight all day
It's hot, sh*t is on, ask the cop
Tell the dreadlock that I rule the block
Ease back, 'nuff man ah die like that
An yah pus*yhole ex-man shot in your back
Word to my hard rocks on Franklin Ave
Feel the bloodbath of the aftermath
The wrath of Duck Down, Bucktown is real
Word to my n*gga 5 Ft, hold the steel
On a n*gga who faked the jack, yo lift it back
f*ck where you're from, it's about where you're at
Where your gat? Whenever you're in Bucktown
sh*t iz real, all you hear is the sound

[Bridge]
Word is bond (yeah, yeah word)
Y'knaamsayin?
Whole muthaf*ckin' Bed-Stuy frontin'
(Yeah kid)
Knaamsayin?
Dis lil Hav' (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Y'knaamsayin?
Mobb Deep in the house
And my man Buckshot
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
sh*t iz real, kid
T's in the house
(sh*t iz definitely real, kid)
[Verse 3: Buckshot]
I'm real, sh*t iz real, f*ck the raw deal
Pick up the b*tch in the back by the field
On the word, sh*t is heard in two-third
Pump herb to my n*ggas from a nickel bag of absurd
On-The-Real is locked down, what?
Beast can't step one foot in Bucktown
Mr. Ripper, hit your back up with holes
All my n*ggas orgy mad loads
Knows, all about the breaker of the cash
n*gga nasty-ass, sittin' all on my Bill Blass
I got a vibe in sight, hmmm
Maybe 'cause I had to get it on last night
With a n*gga from up the block, who walked the rock, realer
But in a knuckle game I'm a head sweller
And when it comes to loading clips
n*ggas talk sh*t get hit with the Tec in the hip
Straight from Bucktown, U.S.A
All my n*ggas must represent e'ryday
On the steel, sh*t iz real word to feel
sh*t iz real, yo sh*t iz mad real

[Outro]
sh*t iz mad real (What, what!)
Back up, we gon' flow
Muthaf*cka!!!
(Moon, Moon! What, what!)
f*ck you!
What, I'll punch you in your muthaf*ckin' face, what!
All you b*tch-ass n*ggas
You wanna jam with me?
(What, what!)
We don't need that here
We don't need that here
(All you b*tch-ass n*ggas!)
(All you b*tch-ass n*ggas, what!)
(What, what!)
Wut the deal?
Wut the deal?
Bucktown