The Real (F3) lyrics

[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
How my mom gone pay the bills when these jobs ain't hiring?
Metal keep firing, the hood's getting tiresome (x2)
Why the f*ck you think I go so hard when I'm writing it?
Tryna feed the kids, the narcs striking us like lighting
My young boy 17 took a 20 to 40
By the time he do that 20, my youngin' be 40
Called me yesterday, told me he pleaded, they caught him
Couldn't beat it, co-defendants was telling our lawyer
I don't spit for the kids, spit it how it is
Why would I tell you something different? this is how I live
How I came up junkies shooting their brains up
n*ggas letting them things bust all over the same stuff
Heard the n*gga killed my dad still walk in these streets
So what the f*ck you think gone happen he walk into me?
Walk into murder, Glock walking the 33
Cause when that n*gga kill my pop it's like he murdered me
Upstate nightmares dreams of getting rich
Got me grinding like a fiend tryna get his fix
All they hustle for is clothes tryna to get a whip
These young boys think you good if you get it brick
Try to tell them n*ggas chill, chill don't pay the bills
But how you gone pay the bills if you got a will?
And how you gone feed your kids if you got a bid?
But I can't blame them its the same sh*t that I done did
Be the ones close to you wanna do the most to you
Blink your eye, turn around, n*gga got the toast to you
On some Rico sh*t, my n*gga's 21 and got the Rico hit
n*ggas will kill their own homies on some Nino sh*t
For the love of the green and the American dream
For the love of the money seen hysterical things
n*ggas will serve their own moms if she ask for a beam