Lirik Lagu The Shit Is Real - Fat Joe
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[Fat Joe]YeahThis is goin out..to all the live motherfuckers, knowhatI'msayin?All the real niggazBronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, QueensCaliforniaLaBella Puerto Rico, wherever the fuck you fromKnowhatI'msayin?Yeah
This story takes place, back in the South Bronxwhere at the age of 14 I was already knockin off punks (yeah!)And suckers were scared to death -- every time I walked byI hear them niggaz take their last breath (ahhh..)See I just didn't give a fuck - and if you had a C-skina leather bomber, you was gettin stuck (word!)That was the way it wasOne day I went to visit my aunt, and stuck up my cuzSee shit was fucked up back thenNo matter what the fuck I didI never had no endsAnd my moms was on walfareAiyyo I knew I had a father, but the nigga was never thereSo what the fuck was I to doI'm sick and tired of bein the bummiest nigga out the crewI gotta get mine, I gotta get cashI see an old man, I'm gonna rob him with the quick-fastGive me your motherfuckin loot, papiI'm gonna get paid, and can't a damn thing stop meSee, I'm tired of this poor shitAnd who the cops?Well they can suck my motherfuckin dickCause all them niggaz ever do is harassThat's why I get glad when I hear somebody smoked that ass (*gunshot*)Just to let ya know how I feelWord em up, the fuckin shit is realHey yo, it's real
Chorus: (*cuts "Down on the reel to reel"*)
Aiyyo the shit is realAiyyo it's realWord up, the shit is real
[Fat Joe]Now I'm sixteen and there's a brand new sceneI'm makin mad loot, gettin paid off the dope fiends (word)Keep the shit in check, in orderand my main man Tone was fuckin everybody else's daughterSee everybody knew in townthat Joe and Tone had shit locked downAnd a nigga wouldn't test meIt seems like every other day the fuckin cops arrest me (yea!)But the shit will never stickI make one phone call and be out like quickCause Uncle Dan had my backAnd now niggaz gettin jealous cause they know I'm livin fatTalkin shit around the way and on the blockBut never in my face, cause they knew I packed a glockAnd my crew is mad deepA bunch of crazy Puerto Ricans, so aiyyo don't sleep (word!)And all you bitch ass niggaz know the dealCheck it out, the fuckin shit is realHey yo, it's real
Chorus: (*cuts "Down on the reel to reel"*)
Aiyyo it's realThe fuckin shit is realYeah.. aiyyo it's real
[Fat Joe]Check it outLet me let ya know why I made this song (why?)Brothers can't deal with the real, word is bondI'm sick and tired of these fake ass niggazsayin that they catchin bodies when they never pulled a triggaI know your style, I've seen it beforeYou wear an army suit, now you think you're hardcoreDrinkin on your 40's, smokin on your bluntsCan't afford a chain so you wear gold fronts, yeahYou're fakin the funk, kidAnd you'll be gettin it up the ass if you ever did a fuckin bidIt's time to separate the real from the phonyThe name is Fat Joe, punk, act like you know meI come equipped with the ruff shitNowadays I can't believe the bull rappers come up withAnd all ya bitch-ass niggaz know the dealCheck it out, the fuckin shit is realHey yo, it's real
Chorus: (*cuts "Down on the reel to reel"*)
Aiyyo the shit is realAiyyo it's realThe fuckin shit is real
[Fat Joe]Word up!I wanna say peace to my peeps, The BeatnutsMessengers of Funk, Strickly RootsMy man Funk Flex, Zulu NationJazzy J in the houseDiamond D, the whole Diggin' in the Crates crewAnd rest in peace to my man Tony MontanaAiyyo, I'm out, word is bondThe shit is real
(*cuts "Down on the reel to reel"*)
Aiyyo
This story takes place, back in the South Bronxwhere at the age of 14 I was already knockin off punks (yeah!)And suckers were scared to death -- every time I walked byI hear them niggaz take their last breath (ahhh..)See I just didn't give a fuck - and if you had a C-skina leather bomber, you was gettin stuck (word!)That was the way it wasOne day I went to visit my aunt, and stuck up my cuzSee shit was fucked up back thenNo matter what the fuck I didI never had no endsAnd my moms was on walfareAiyyo I knew I had a father, but the nigga was never thereSo what the fuck was I to doI'm sick and tired of bein the bummiest nigga out the crewI gotta get mine, I gotta get cashI see an old man, I'm gonna rob him with the quick-fastGive me your motherfuckin loot, papiI'm gonna get paid, and can't a damn thing stop meSee, I'm tired of this poor shitAnd who the cops?Well they can suck my motherfuckin dickCause all them niggaz ever do is harassThat's why I get glad when I hear somebody smoked that ass (*gunshot*)Just to let ya know how I feelWord em up, the fuckin shit is realHey yo, it's real
Chorus: (*cuts "Down on the reel to reel"*)
Aiyyo the shit is realAiyyo it's realWord up, the shit is real
[Fat Joe]Now I'm sixteen and there's a brand new sceneI'm makin mad loot, gettin paid off the dope fiends (word)Keep the shit in check, in orderand my main man Tone was fuckin everybody else's daughterSee everybody knew in townthat Joe and Tone had shit locked downAnd a nigga wouldn't test meIt seems like every other day the fuckin cops arrest me (yea!)But the shit will never stickI make one phone call and be out like quickCause Uncle Dan had my backAnd now niggaz gettin jealous cause they know I'm livin fatTalkin shit around the way and on the blockBut never in my face, cause they knew I packed a glockAnd my crew is mad deepA bunch of crazy Puerto Ricans, so aiyyo don't sleep (word!)And all you bitch ass niggaz know the dealCheck it out, the fuckin shit is realHey yo, it's real
Chorus: (*cuts "Down on the reel to reel"*)
Aiyyo it's realThe fuckin shit is realYeah.. aiyyo it's real
[Fat Joe]Check it outLet me let ya know why I made this song (why?)Brothers can't deal with the real, word is bondI'm sick and tired of these fake ass niggazsayin that they catchin bodies when they never pulled a triggaI know your style, I've seen it beforeYou wear an army suit, now you think you're hardcoreDrinkin on your 40's, smokin on your bluntsCan't afford a chain so you wear gold fronts, yeahYou're fakin the funk, kidAnd you'll be gettin it up the ass if you ever did a fuckin bidIt's time to separate the real from the phonyThe name is Fat Joe, punk, act like you know meI come equipped with the ruff shitNowadays I can't believe the bull rappers come up withAnd all ya bitch-ass niggaz know the dealCheck it out, the fuckin shit is realHey yo, it's real
Chorus: (*cuts "Down on the reel to reel"*)
Aiyyo the shit is realAiyyo it's realThe fuckin shit is real
[Fat Joe]Word up!I wanna say peace to my peeps, The BeatnutsMessengers of Funk, Strickly RootsMy man Funk Flex, Zulu NationJazzy J in the houseDiamond D, the whole Diggin' in the Crates crewAnd rest in peace to my man Tony MontanaAiyyo, I'm out, word is bondThe shit is real
(*cuts "Down on the reel to reel"*)
Aiyyo
