The Shit Is Real (DJ Premier Remix) - Fat Joe

This is goin' out ... to all the live motherf_ckers, knowhatumsayin'
All the real n_ggaz, Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, California
La Perla, Puerto Rico, whatever the f_ck you're from, youknowhatumsayin'

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 s_ckers were scared to death
Every time I walked by I hit them n_ggaz take their last breath (ahhh..)
See, I just didn't give a f_ck
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 f_cked up back then
No matter what the f_ck I did, I never had no ends
And my moms was on walfare
Aiyyo I knew I had a father, but the n_gga was never there
So what the f_ck was I had to do
When sick and tired to bein' the bummiest n_gga 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 motherf_cking loot, popi
I'm goin' to get paid and can't a damn thing stop me
See, I'm tired of this porsh_t
And who the cops? Well they can s_ck my motherf_ckin' d_ck!
Cause all them n_ggaz 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 f_ckin' sh_t is real

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

Aiyyo its real
Aiyyo the sh_t is real
The f_ckin sh_t 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 sh_t?* the checkin order,
and my main man Tone was f_ckin everybody else's daughter
See everybody knew in town that Joe and Tone had sh_t locked down
And a n_gga wouldn't test me
It seems like every other day the f_cking cops arrest me (yea!)
But the sh_t would never stick
I make one phone call and he'll be out by quick
Cause uncle Tan had my back
And now n_ggaz gettin' jealous cause they know I'm livin' fat
Talkin sh_t 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 b_tch ass n_ggaz know the deal, check it out
The f_cking sh_t is real


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 n_ggaz
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 h_rdcore
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 f_cking 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 sh_t
Nowadays I can't believe the *?bull/boo?* rappers come up with
And all y'all b_tch ass n_ggaz know the deal, check it out
The f_ckin sh_t is real



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 sh_t is real

(*Premier cuts "Fat Joe's in town"*)

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