Keep It Real

I'm trying to blow like Papi
Where sling rocks bust shots and push yeah yo
Yo half the world thought the album failed in this '94 and it's on

And if you feel that you'se a real soldier from the street
I hustle with Timberland boots and rainsuits when it rains
Terrified 'cause the crew from the south side is bustin'
See I was taught young to be strong and just strive
That the lost boy and group home fam want it all what would you do
Hangin' out in the reds wearing Levi's and Pro-Keds
We racking grimy hills for funds and I stash all my sons mons
Baby girls having kids in their teens
Come on and keep it real, this is saying
Taking rap as a joke but I see no laughter

Peoples if you violate you getting violated
Come on and keep it real, this is saying

That's the type of lifestyle that I lead
Who, who you stepping to the lost boy crew
Throw your hands in the air we salute you
Slinging rocks and packing glocks on the blocks

And if you feel that you'se a real soldier from the street
We sleep during the day and creep when it's dark
It's early in the morning I'm selling tumbs from my Reeboks
And if you feel that you'se a real soldier from the street
Bounce, bounce it up town, bounce it down south
Fools make your moves pay dues

See a south side Jamaica Queen fellas get down man
Carry across town because we tapping niggas hoodrats
I'm ripping out my hairs but I can't get to my brain
You been to the house of pain now welcome to my yard of terror
I had a messed up childhood the head is mad nappy
Come on and keep it real, this is saying
No question I keep my hear in braids, Taliq got dreads
Bounce it up town, bounce it down south
Hey yo cut the music down
I smoking blunts with the wife stay on point like a
Pouring beer on the curb for the dead
Bounce it up town, bounce it down south
I can't do what a wanna I do what I gotta
Word to him I stomp you out with my tim chukkas
Throw your hands in the air we salute you
Bounce, bounce it up town, bounce it down south
Boy you stomped that ass is through
Peeling caps so yo we got to stay strapped
I want the gold teeth and chains

So nowadays we packing guns
Every man is insane he's got a brain like Norman Bates
That the lost boy and group home fam want it all what would you do
A little man to look after
'Cause every day on Rockaway is getting hotter

Jetting from the police 'cause police they'se a bunch of creeps
Tres, nicks and dimes I write rhymes
Timberland boots ski hats we pack gats
Listen so what your crew is X rated
I'm smoking weed in '96 with my peeps
Believe I been through all the struggles and the pain
Throw your hands in the air we salute you
Young fellows baggy jeans slinging crack to the crack fiends
I once had to cry when I seen Tyrone die
Give up your cheese you loose my baby boy need shoes
With my fams on the corner drinking beers and smoking weed
I need money in a snap gee kid
What you think I'm some sucker?
See we live the street life
That the lost boy and group home fam want it all what would you do

Fat cat the street life is where it's at
The street life yeah that's the only life I know
Sit on crates keep their backs against gates
To my man Charles Suitte and Big Tig

This black on black crime I cram to understand why
I'm testing off the new burners in the park
Stepping to the cheeks you made an error
In Atlanta and V A
Survive I might not be around in '95
But they don't want the family
Bounce it up town, bounce it down south
But the ghetto times they got the cheeks doing crimes
I had to bring drama to some powder head