What'S Real

1977, Wasn't no cocaine in my hood yet
The brothers were stuck on chuck without a mindset
I got tired of watchin Good Times
Feelin like J.J., I'm standin in the food bank line
My momma was ridin on the bus tryin to get to work
Early in the mornin, it's cold and her knees hurt
She got a.38 sittin in her purse
Cause my moms was the King County jail nurse
So how in the hell could you tell Mix
That I never lived this
When you was just a snotty nosed age six
Young buck just graduated
And you're lyin when you say you're street educated
Cause I'm a veteran boy and you'se a new booty
So stop frontin to your friends like you knew me
Cause you don't and you never did kid
So fuck your respect and the shit you claim you did
So are you real when you're claimin you gangbang
Doin everything to gain fame and get yourself a name
But I done seen my homies gettin smoked over dice games
When you was still at home doin nice things
Back in the days of turtle wax on Cadillacs
Life to a brother was hoes and macs
I had to come up some way
Pimp daddies and ex-Black Panthers used to school me
While moms was puttin in eight to twelve
I was in the hood gettin schooled on makin mail
I can't let my moms die a poor black sista
Gotta make her richer
So tell me what's real partner
("Down for mine, you gonna buy me a muthafuckin car?")
So what's real fool
("Down for mine, you gonna buy me a muthafuckin car?")
Back when MLK Way was Empire Way
I was stuck on broke but I used to hear the pimps say
Better get what you can get before you get got
Come up and snatch yours and buy yourself a nice spot
And that's stuck in my head to this day G
So I apply pimp game to life you see
But I ain't beatin on a sista in the streets
I'mma focus on my real enemy, yeah
So if I'm pimpin then who's my hoeys in D.C
Livin in a big white house bro
Changes his name every four years
Mr. Carter caught me slippin but Reagan wasn't gettin his
I never wanted a handout young Jake
I never got jealous over how much a brother makes
So I was on my own, no love in the school zone
No blacks in the books so I'm gone
And now the only color that I love is green see
Cause my history books never taught me about me
I may not like where I been
But I'm lovin where I am, prime rib, fuck Spam
So tell me what's real partner
("Pimp walk, pimp tip, heat check
You gonna buy me a muthafuckin car?")
So what's real fool
("Pimp walk, pimp tip, heat check
You gonna buy me a muthafuckin car?")
Yeah I'd much rather be behind the mic than the gat
But the simple fact that my pockets is fat
Means I can't relax, you know what I'm sayin? Huh huh
Criticized by the mainstream
For not bein the house jig and keepin things squeaky clean
But I can't so I ain't
But I won't play the hard role just because you think
That it's real to say you kill when you never held steel
You try to sag when you're rollin in cakeville
Back in the days you was breakdancin see
I remember when you had tight pants G
So Mr. Rap Critic when you tries to check me
About my cars and my girls claimin you never could respect me
You really think I give a damn partner?
The shit I been through man
I used to roll with the hoes
Hit the Caddy and slam the doors
Livin alone, cellular phone
Havin no furniture in my home
Rollin to Canada makin my mail
Givin a trick a piece of tail
Livin it large, keepin it hard
Life was kinda odd
And rat-a-tat-tat with my gat that sat in my lap G
The Hilton Hotel was my spot, I'm runnin my thang see
I went from hustlin cheese to double platinum LP's
But you still can't feel me
Boy the head don't get fat if you know where you're at
Instead of ridin my back, check your own dat and that's facts
Now what's real partner?
Huh huh, so what's real?
Yeah to all you clowns runnin around town
Tellin people me and you'se was down
When I was doin parties at the Boy's Club
You was sellin matchbooks of weed partner
I was about handlin my business
And you was about smokin your goodness
So check yourself you wanna see the big head champ
And that's real to the fullest and I'm out