The sh*t is Real lyrics

by

Fat Joe


[Intro: Fat Joe]
Yeah
This is goin out..
To all the live motherf*ckers, knowhatI'msayin?
All the real n*ggas
Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens
California
LaBella Puerto Rico, wherever the f*ck you from
KnowhatI'msayin? Yeah

[Verse 1]
This story takes place, back in the South Bronx
Where at the age of 14
I was already knockin off punks (yeah!)
And suckers were scared to death -- every time I walked by
I hear them n*ggas take their last breath (ahhh..)
See I just didn't give a f*ck - and if you had a sheep skin
A leather bomber, you was gettin stuck (word!)
That was the way it was
One day I went to visit my aunt, and stuck up my cuz
See sh*t was f*cked up back then
No matter what the f*ck I did I never had no ends
And my moms was on wealthfare
Aiyyo I knew I had a father, but the n*gga was never there
So what the f*ck was I to do
I'm sick and tired of bein the bummiest n*gga 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
Give me your motherf*ckin loot, papi
I'm gonna get paid, and can't a damn thing stop me
See, I'm tired of this poor sh*t
And who the cops?
Well they can suck my motherf*ckin di*k
Cause all them n*ggas ever do is harass
That's why I get glad when I hear somebody smoked that ass (*gunshot*)
Just to let ya know how I feel
Word em up, the f*ckin sh*t is real
Hey yo, it's real
[Hook: (*cuts "Down on the reel to reel"*)]
Aiyyo the sh*t is real
Aiyyo it's real
Word up, the sh*t is 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 (word)
Keep the sh*t in check, in order
And my main man Tone was f*ckin everybody else's daughter
See everybody knew in town
That Joe and Tone had sh*t locked down
And a n*gga wouldn't test me
It seems like every other day the f*ckin cops arrest me (yea!)
But the sh*t will never stick
I make one phone call and be out like quick
Cause Uncle Dan had my back
And now n*ggas gettin jealous cause they know I'm livin fat
Talkin sh*t around the way and on the block
But never in my face, cause they knew I packed a Glock
And my crew is mad deep
A bunch of crazy Puerto Ricans, so aiyyo don't sleep (word!)
And all you b*tch ass n*ggas know the deal
Check it out, the f*ckin sh*t is real
Hey yo, it's real
[Hook: (*cuts "Down on the reel to reel"*)]
Aiyyo it's real
The f*ckin sh*t is real
Yeah.. aiyyo it's real

[Verse 3]
Check it out
Let me let ya know why I made this song (why?)
Brothers can't deal with the real, word is bond
I'm sick and tired of these fake ass n*ggas
Sayin that they catchin bodies
When they never pulled a trigga
I know your style, I've seen it before
You wear an army suit, now you think you're hardcore
Drinkin on your 40's, smokin on your blunts
Can't afford a chain so you wear gold fronts, yeah
You're fakin the funk, kid
And you'll be gettin it up the ass if you ever did a f*ckin 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*t
Nowadays I can't believe the bull rappers come up with
And all ya b*tch-ass n*ggas know the deal
Check it out, the f*ckin sh*t is real
Hey yo, it's real
[Hook: (*cuts "Down on the reel to reel"*)]
Aiyyo the sh*t is real
Aiyyo it's real
The f*ckin sh*t is real

[Outro]
Word up!
I wanna say peace to my peeps, The Beatnuts
Mesanjarz of Funk, Strickly Roots
My man Funk Flex, Zulu Nation
Jazzy Jay in the house
Diamond D, the whole Diggin' in the Crates crew
And rest in peace to my man Tony Montana
Aiyyo, I'm out, word is bond
The sh*t is real

(*cuts "Down on the reel to reel"*)
Aiyyo
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