Yeah

This is goin' out ... to all the live motherfuckers knowhatumsayin'

All the real niggaz Bronx Brooklyn Manhattan Queens California

La Perla Puerto Rico whatever the fuck you're from

youknowhatumsayin'

Yeah

Verse One:

This story takes place back in the South Bronx

Where at the age of fourteen I was ready to knockin' off punks (yeah!)

And suckers were scared to death

Every time I walked by I hit them niggaz take their last breath

(ahhh..)

See, I just didn't give a fuck

And if you had a seed skin, I let the bomba you was getting stuck

(word!)

That was the way it was

One day I went to visit my aunt, and stuck up my cous

See, something was fucked up back then

No matter what the fuck I did, I never had no ends

And my moms was on walfare

Aiyyo I knew I had a father, but the nigga was never there

So what the fuck was I had to do

When sick and tired to bein' the bummiest nigga out the crew

I gotta get mine, I gotta get cash!

I see an old man, I'm gonna rob him with the quick-fast

Gimme your motherfucking loot, popi

I'm goin' to get paid and can't a damn thing stop me

See, I'm tired of this porshit

And who the cops? Well they can suck my motherfuckin' dick!

Cause all them niggaz ever do is harass

That's why I came glad when I heard somebody swooped that ass

(*gunshot*)

Just to let ya know how I feel, word'em up

The fuckin' shit is real

Chorus: (*background cuts "Down on the real"*)

Aiyyo its real

Aiyyo the shit is real

The fuckin shit is real

Aiyyo its real

Verse Two:

Now I'm sixteen and there's a brand new scene

I'm makin' mad dupe, gettin' paid off the dope fiends (word)

*?Deep in shit?* the checkin order,

and my main man Tone was fuckin everybody else's daughter

See everybody knew in town that Joe and Tone had shit locked down

And a nigga wouldn't test me

It seems like every other day the fucking cops arrest me (yea!)

But the shit would never stick

I make one phone call and he'll be out by quick

Cause uncle Tan had my back

And now niggaz gettin' jealous cause they know I'm livin' fat

Talkin shit around the way and over block

But never in my face cause they knew I'd clap the glock

And my crew is mad deep

I'm punchin crazy puerto rican, so why yo don't sleep (word!)

And all you bitch ass niggaz know the deal, check it out

The fucking shit is real

Chorus

Verse Three:

Let me let ya know why I made this song (why!?)

Brothers can't deal with the real, word is bond

I'm sick and tired of these fake ass niggaz

Sayin' that they're catchin' bodies when they never pulled a trigga

I know ya style, I've seen it before

You wearin' army suit, now you think you're hardcore

Drinkin on your 40's, smokin on your blunts

Then afford a chainsaw, yo there ho fronts ,yeah

You fakin' the funk, kid

And you'd be *?kidnapped?* the ass if you ever did a fucking bid

It's time to separate the real from the phony

The name is Fat Joe, punk, act like you know me

I come from crypt with that ruff shit

Nowadays I can't believe the *?bull/boo?* rappers come up with

And all y'all bitch ass niggaz know the deal, check it out

The fuckin shit is real

Chorus

Outro:

Word up!

I wanna say peace to my peeps, the Beatnuts

Messengers Of Funk, strictly Roots

My man Four Flex, Zulu Nation

Jazzy J in the house

Diamond D, the whole Diggin' In The Crates crew

And rest in peace to my man Tony Montana

Aiyo, I'm out, word is bond

The shit is real

(*Premier cuts "Fat Joe's in town