The name is Fat Joe, punk, act like you know me
(Yeah)
My man Funk Flex, Zulu Nation
(Word)
Now I'm sixteen and there's a brand new scene
Messengers of Funk, Strickly Roots
Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, California
And now niggaz gettin' jealous 'cause they know I'm livin' fat
I'm gonna get paid and can't a damn thing stop me
And rest in peace to my man Tony Montana
That's why I get glad when I hear somebody smoked that ass
And a nigga wouldn't test me
KnowhatI'msayin'? Yeah
It's time to separate the real from the phony
Keep the shit in check, in order
Check it out, the fuckin' shit is real
And you'll be gettin' it up the ass if you ever did a fuckin' bid
And my mom's was on welfare
Word up
So what the fuck was I to do?
It seems like every other day the fuckin' cops arrest me
Check it out, the fuckin' shit is real
I see an old man, I'm gonna rob him with the quick fast
I hear them niggaz take their last breath
Check it out
Hey yo, it's real
See I just didn't give a fuck and if you had a C skin
But never in my face, 'cause they knew I packed a glock
Just to let ya know how I feel
I wanna say peace to my peeps, The Beatnuts
(Word)
Talkin' shit around the way and on the block
I gotta get mine, I gotta get cash
Well, they can suck my motherfuckin' dick
Aiyyo, it's real
The fuckin' shit is real
And suckers were scared to death, every time I walked by
Aiyyo, I knew I had a father but the nigga was never there
Hey yo, it's real
One day I went to visit my aunt and stuck up my 'cuz
I'm sick and tired of these fake ass niggaz
You wear an army suit, now you think you're hardcore
I'm makin' mad loot, gettin' paid off the dope fiends
Give me your motherfuckin' loot, papi
The fuckin' shit is real
Sayin' that they catchin' bodies when they never pulled a trigga
Can't afford a chain so you wear gold fronts, yeah
I come equipped with the ruff shit
Word up, the shit is real
Drinkin' on your forty's, smokin' on your blunts
I make one phone call and be out like quick
LaBella, Puerto Rico, wherever the fuck you from
I'm sick and tired of bein' the bummiest nigga out the crew
Diamond D, the whole diggin' in the crates crew
Aiyyo, it's real
This story takes place, back in the South Bronx
See I'm tired of this poor shit and who the cops?
Aiyyo, I'm out, word is bond
(Ah)
Aiyyo, the shit is real
Yeah, aiyyo, it's real
Brothers can't deal with the real, word is bond
(Yeah)
I know your style, I've seen it before
'Cause Uncle Dan had my back
A bunch of crazy Puerto Ricans, so aiyyo, don't sleep
And all ya bitch ass niggaz know the deal
And my main man Tone was fuckin' everybody else's daughter
'Cause all them niggaz ever do is harass
You're fakin' the funk, kid
Jazzy J in the house
That Joe and Tone had shit locked down
Let me let ya know why I made this song
Word 'em up, the fuckin' shit is real
Aiyyo, it's real
And my crew is mad deep
Where at the age of fourteen, I was already knockin' off punks
All the real niggaz
That was the way it was
Nowadays I can't believe the bull rappers come up with
See shit was fucked up back then
But the shit will never stick
A leather bomber, you was gettin' stuck
No matter what the fuck I did I never had no ends
(Word)
See everybody knew in town
Aiyyo, the shit is real
(Why?)
And all you bitch ass niggaz know the deal
Hey yo, it's real
