Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Shit Is Real, Pt. III, artist - Fat Joe.
Date of issue: 10.11.2002
Song language: English
Shit Is Real, Pt. III |
Slow motion baby, unh |
Tell you what I see through these eyes |
All we do is speak the truth |
Shit is realla then real |
Shit is realla then real |
My true niggas walk wit me, yeah |
They ride wit me, cook pies wit me, ya heard? |
Lord I keep hollering, I hope you listening |
How come I’m still stressed and even though the squad’s glistening? |
Why you had to take Pun, someone so young |
Had so much more to live for, as real as they come |
Dead man can’t talk that’s why your hearing one side of the story |
But did they tell you how he provided for forty |
Family members, grandmas to shorties |
Even my seeds ate off the big homie |
How could you deceive your kids like that? |
Make 'em believe they dad wasn’t worth jack |
Listen to the facts as The Don pours his heart on this track |
How could I jus stand there and not react? |
And I’m jus about sick of all you side line niggas |
You know, do anything for the lime light niggas |
I’m defending your honor, my brother from anotha momma |
I never thought I’d see the day they tried to send you byna |
Shit is realla then you think, man you must not know |
It takes a lot to walk a day in the life of Fat Joe |
The place I’m from, MTV don’t wanna film |
Jus a simple dice game will get a muthafucka killed |
The ghetto ain’t a place that you wanna take lightly |
Same cat that’ll spill you, will end up with your wifey |
I’ve seen it all that’s why I’ve picked up the pen |
To keep your boy from serving life in the pen, ya heard? |
Fuck, the flu season, nowadays it’s sue season |
Can’t even go to the clubs and show my people love |
Cuz soon as shit pop off niggas knuckle love |
Niggas accusing me of fuckin 'em up! |
I’m like «hold up, ain’t they supposed to be dogs?» |
Part time live niggas dabbeling drugs |
See a rapper think of a lucrative deal |
But youse a bitch if you choosing to squeel |
It’s more than obvious you don’t know a thing about honor |
But what goes around comes around, you’ll soon learn about karma- |
As for me I stay being the realest |
Admired by politicans, street thugs and killers |
I keep feeding the street but the street feed back |
Is that police tryna see Joe back in green slacks |
But never that, see I keep long money |
And if you looking for that you’ll never see a cent from me |
Motherfucker! |
Yo, unh, I stay grinding, everybody counted me out |
Now I’m rewinding in my summer beach house |
If I’m not in the studio I’m out on tour |
Busting my ass to make my fans future secure |
Nowadays everybody want somethin for nothin |
All of a sudden niggas talkin like «Joey be frontin» |
The hood screaming Crack done changed, he don’t holla |
I know now B.I.G., Mo Money Mo Problems |
Jealousy’s a muthafucka |
Who’d a thought the same niggas you be feeding be the muthafuckaz coming for ya |
I’m not stressin, I was born a warrior |
Plus I’m too big, too strong, too wise for ya |
When it’s all said and done I follow my dreams |
Could have ended up dead or in jail given the scheme of things |
To let you know I’m the reason you still walking |
If I said something it was me, not the liquor talking |