Lyrics Shit Iz Real - Black Moon

Shit Iz Real

Check how I kick it, when I was wicked, around the way
Hold my Tec, cuz my niggas pump by day
Drugs and thieves hit the eve of the night
Niggas who fake real, come on a real flight
Six feet deep in the creep
Mic technique got a nigga locked down for a week
Word is bond, shit is on like this
Gotta move, cuz I’m on a nigga hit list
You know the kid with the rock from up the block
Hit him up with the Glock now his pops on my rooftop
Ridiculous to think you’re hittin me
You’re not hittin' me you’re gettin' me upset with the threat
But I’m a little nigga from the heart of Bucktown
My stomping ground is Brooklyn bound
Fuck what you heard, it’s about what you hit
And if that’s your girl, then your bitch ain’t shit
Fuckin' all my niggas cuz they know Black Moon
Shit iz real yo, pass that boom
Ayo, I gotta dime bag, kid, word up
Yeah, yeah, yeah that’s that
Smif-N-Wessun
Take two and pass, muthafucka!
USA
Slobbin' ass nigga
Never parlay without a L
Inhale the first hit for all my niggas locked in jail
Then go for dolo on a cool André
Shoot the wack in the back and I’m aiight all day
It’s hot, shit is on, ask the cop
Tell the dreadlock that I rule the block
Ease back, nuff man ah die like that
An yah pussyhole ex-man shot in your back
Word to my hard rocks on Franklin Ave
Feel the bloodbath of the aftermath
The wrath of Duck Down, Bucktown is real
Word to my nigga Five Ft, hold the steel
On a nigga who faked the jack, yo lift it back
Fuck where you’re from, it’s about where you’re at
Where your gat?
Whenever you’re in Bucktown
Shit iz real, all you hear is the sound
Word is bond
Y’knaamsayin?
Whole muthafuckin' Bed-Stuy frontin'
Knaamsayin?
Dis lil Hav'
Y’knaamsayin?
Mobb Deep in the house
And my man Buckshot
Shit iz real, kid
T’s in the house
I’m real, shit iz real, fuck the raw deal
Pick up the bitch in the back by the field
On the word, shit is heard in two-third
Pump herb to my niggas from a nickel bag of absurd
On-The-Real is locked down, what?
Beast can’t step one foot in Bucktown
Mr. Ripper;
hit your back up with holes
All my niggas orgy mad loads
Knows, all about the breaker of the cash
Nigga nasty-ass, sittin' all on my Bill Blass
I got a vibe in site, hmmm
Maybe cuz I had to get it on last night
With a nigga from up the block, who walked the rock, realer
But in a knuckle game;
I’mma head swell 'im
And when it comes to loading clips
Niggas talk shit get hit with the Tec and the hip
Straight from Bucktown, U.S.A
All my niggas must represent e’ryday
On the steel, shit iz real word to feel
Shit iz real, yo shit iz mad real
Shit iz mad real
Back up, we gon' flow
Muthafucka!!!
Fuck you!
What, I’ll punch you in your muthafuckin' face, what!
All you bitch-ass niggas
You wanna jam with me?
We don’t need that here
We don’t need that here
Wut the deal?
Wut the deal?
Bucktown