[Fat Joe]. Yeah. This is goin out... to all the live motherfuckers knowhatI'msayin?. All the real niggaz. Bronx Brooklyn Manhattan Queens. California. LaBella Puerto Rico wherever the fuck you from. KnowhatI'msayin? Yeah. This story takes place back in the South Bronx. where at the age of 14 I was already knockin off punks (yeah!). And suckers were scared to death -- every time I walked by. I hear them niggaz take their last breath (ahhh..). See I just didn't give a fuck - and if you had a C-skin. a leather bomber you was gettin stuck (word!). That was the way it was. One day I went to visit my aunt and stuck up my cuz. See shit 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 to do. I'm sick and tired of 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. Give me your motherfuckin loot papi. I'm gonna get paid and can't a damn thing stop me. See I'm tired of this poor shit. And who the cops? Well they can suck my motherfuckin dick. Cause all them niggaz ever do is harass. That's why I get glad when I hear somebody smoked that ass (*gunshot*). Just to let ya know how I feel. Word em up the fuckin shit is real. Hey yo it's real. Chorus: (*cuts "Down on the reel to reel"*). Aiyyo the shit is real. Aiyyo it's real. Word up the shit is real. [Fat Joe]. Now I'm sixteen and there's a brand new scene. I'm makin mad loot gettin paid off the dope fiends (word). Keep the shit in check in 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 fuckin cops arrest me (yea!). But the shit will never stick. I make one phone call and be out like quick. Cause Uncle Dan had my back. And now niggaz gettin jealous cause they know I'm livin fat. Talkin shit around the way and on the block. But never in my face cause they knew I packed a glock. And my crew is mad deep. A bunch of crazy Puerto Ricans so aiyyo don't sleep (word!). And all you bitch ass niggaz know the deal. Check it out the fuckin shit is real. Hey yo it's real. Chorus: (*cuts "Down on the reel to reel"*). Aiyyo it's real. The fuckin shit is real. Yeah.. aiyyo it's real. [Fat Joe]. Check it out. 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 catchin bodies when they never pulled a trigga. I know your style I've seen it before. You wear an army suit now you think you're hardcore. Drinkin on your 40's smokin on your blunts. Can't afford a chain so you wear gold fronts yeah. You're fakin the funk kid. And you'll be gettin it up the ass if you ever did a fuckin bid. It's time to separate the real from the phony. The name is Fat Joe punk act like you know me. I come equipped with the ruff shit. Nowadays I can't believe the bull rappers come up with. And all ya bitch-ass niggaz know the deal. Check it out the fuckin shit is real. Hey yo it's real. Chorus: (*cuts "Down on the reel to reel"*). Aiyyo the shit is real. Aiyyo it's real. The fuckin shit is real. [Fat Joe]. Word up!. I wanna say peace to my peeps The Beatnuts. Messengers of Funk Strickly Roots. My man Funk 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. Aiyyo I'm out word is bond. The shit is real. (*cuts "Down on the reel to reel"*)