Master P talking)



Yeah, huh, my boy Young Bleed in here, C-Loc in here, an you know the

colonel MP up in here



Chorus: Young Bleed



Nigga we gonna keep it real dawg, hustiln high, cuz live niggas keep it

real young, can we keep it real Loc? Tryin not to spill no blood, if

it's real show a nigga love, nigga.



Verse 1- Young Bleed



Nigga it burns for gold that rose before me that was fakin' the funk,

long an behold I come to get it, so I'm takin' it in chunks, out to

lunch for brunch, maggots gonna munch in perpendicular, order money, man

slaughter, I write this shit thats good for you, how many mutha fuckas

must get dealt wit? Before someone kick down yo door, an leave you

helpless, is you feelin' my fear, feelin' my vibe, at the same time, I

dirty my theroy, clickin my tribe, tryin' ta claim mine, hush,

what you discovered don't shake the rictor, my nigga, my nerve, go get

the camera, get the picture, I'm laughin' at y'all for tryin' to ball,

wit yo mug on me, movin' a million mutha fuckas strappin murder machine,

I come dainty an benidine, so gimme mine, sippin great wine, polishin

pussy thats genuine, paralized to the format still smokin' blunts for

days, an mama's theroies an ways, got me prepared ha, niggas ain't

ready, but if it wasn't for the grace of God, they say you couldn't live

life against all odds, I know it's hard, but it's real though, I'm 'bout

ta peel out, everytime I touch somethin', what ya feel yo, nigga, give a

fuck if you bigga.



Chorus



Verse 2- C-Loc



It be a piper push poundses, wit playas who wanna rise, pick the pen

then ??? my rhyme, eh, so now I can make a leagal paper in this rap

game, at the first used to hear that boy playin' wit steel toys, now I'm

worse, can't break the curse, y'all laugh until I die, comin' from the

dirt, so watch a young hustler rise an shine, like the ghetto

mastermind, (bout it bout it) let em know, why do, doin' all that lyin'

got the nation down to ???, young mutha fucka ain't do shit, can't stand

the heat get out the kitchen, before trigga fingas get to itchin', getty

up, get into position to have twitchin', thinkin', damn, how could I

have mention, stop trippin', keep it real nigga.



Chorus x2



Verse 3- Master P



Ughh! I live my life of a youngsta wit money, to many, bitches

pandhandlers, beggas an dummies, tryin ta, steal my soul, I mean suck me

dry, for these 20 inch rims on my ghetto ride, I couldn't lose my life

tryin' to keep my shoes, sell my soul to the devil, in the ghetto you

lose, an ain't no, nigga gonna make it, fakin' the game, too many blacks

behind bars for fortune and fame, I live, my life, readin' jail house

letters, I'm workin', money orders sendin weed through sweaters, I seen

mama's turn off of hustlas and killas, my last supper probably gonna be

wit fiends an dealers. Ughhhh!



Chorus x3



(Master P talking during chorus)



C-Loc records, keep it real, for all the records, keep it real Loc the

whole south, to the east, to the west, to the middle, huh, we gonna keep

it real though, keep it real Loc