featuring Phats Bossi, 2wice



Check this out.



*(Yukmouth talking)*



Yes.

2wice.

Uh.

(What's crackin?)

Drink-A-Lot, Smoke-A-Lot.

(Haha, is that right?)

And Phats Bossi.

Yes.

All of my niggas ridaz.

Check it.



Chorus *(Yukmouth)*



All of my niggas ridaz.

small time grindas, pimps and big timers.

Whether it's heiron or hemp wit China.

Or got a bitch on the strip sellin vagina.

Shit Is Real.

One mo time.



Verse 1 *(Yukmouth of the Luniz)*



Niggas fat

nigga I come down strikin from the clouds like lightnin

and smoke the ground

show you how to blow a pound

wit out coughin

how to work a Nina Ross wit out walkin

funny style

wit out a half honey child jockin wit out flossin

my niggas could peep out what I'm thinkin bout, wit out talkin

one look at a crook

my nigga book, an then the Tech start barkin

shoot up the whole parkin lot

bullets ricochet apartments

got bitches slangin martian

wit big titties like Dolly Pardon

in the projects

dope fiends loose they check, then flip like Martin

walkin down the street butt naked and crack rocks sparkin

startin shit in front of my buildin

here comes the sargent

raid a nigga house, juss some days to pay a warrant

that dirty varmit

back to the Regime conglomerate

where the climate

is always sunny for money

the small timers

become grindas

escalate to big timers

pimp niggas got bitches trickin vagina.

This Shit Is Real nigga!



*(Chorus)* 2x



Verse 2 *(2wice)*



Give us rememory morse

of course

takin no short fa sho

poppin the cop wit glocks

like I'm Tupac Shakur

cuz everyday we high as hell

dope is what we try an sell

nickle and dimes for buyin yayo

til I got lines of clientele

load up yo clip

click-clack

hold up yo shit

get back

if ya know ya shit

admitt that

roll up a spliff

an hit that

roll up the crib

made a nigga cost mail

you tried to post

but ya lay 'em in a coffin

the boss man

whips up another batch

pick up some other scratch

wit clips and some other straps

the 2wice suguest you stop

cuz my loot no share

cuz I invest in glocks

How ya shoot that there?

I do got playas

pimps slash some hustlas

that do got they rapid self

pass them suckels

I flip a Tech wit a muffle

greet the flex wit my muscle

the Luniz

doin they thing-ama-jig

an it must sell.



*(Chorus)* 2x

Eh!

Shit is real!



Verse 3 *(Numskull of the Luniz)*



Niggas feel that

when niggas found at

Drink-A-Lot wasn't even found yet

when 4, 15's was the only sound check

yo, what happened to the side shows

when niggas used to ride those

Vet's and 50's

to be connected drunkin rhinos

when bitches was dusted

sex was like "Fuck it"

an no real nigga was ashamed to ride a bucket

when shit was goin down

we followed it

if she ain't suckin dick by now

she swallowed it

wallow in yo guiltiness

everybody candy

and everybody rich like filthiness

but I can still see this

Ghost Town

ridin to another status

where everything is based on who the baddest

we had Lil Kim's

but they juss wasn't out the closet

an now we got 'em fuckin wit each other on some Mobb shit

Mobb shit

Mobb one

Mobb two

an then I got a Mobb for when there's else to do

get used to the crew.



Verse 4 *(Phats Bossi)



What?

See all young guns

where they come from

blocks of hoodlums

the fake shooks ones

they get touched wit busted ear drums

raw meat

me an Keek Sneek we start the big beat

if they mouth leak

wit big heats

get put to sleep

Mr. Phats slash Jaco

I'm out for pecos

go for gusto

Mobb villans we flippin Lexos

never trust those

dirty cats

they get the wet nose

get they head froze

Thugged Out, playin in wet clothes

the life of cut throat

cut throat

I'm in my hustle

show my muscle

flex off, then start to tussle

young guys, pushin Hot Rods

begin the saga

blow like Hoffa

stack chips like Godfather

Shit Is Real.



*(Chorus)* 2x