Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song He's Not Real, artist - Fat Joe. Date of issue: 26.11.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
He's Not Real |
| Yo, everybody talkin gats, really don’t pack em |
| 98% of these rappers is all actor’s |
| Stay frontin, like you wild and’ll spray somethin |
| Come to find out, you ain’t never slanged nothin |
| Think it’s the game, gon lose the sport |
| I seen dude’s get bruised through fort |
| Then choose the court, a new’s report |
| They just pursed the court |
| If you even think of bustin, they ass’ll sooth your thoughts |
| A damn shame, I’m from the streets where it’s fair game |
| Niggas will ift you off your feet wit the Can-yan |
| Three in the chest and one in the part |
| For disrespect you, get left right in front of ya moms |
| Joe is the Don, you clean, then show me your arm |
| For these track’s, I’m a fiend like a soldier in 'Nam |
| Only the Bronx will blow your ass outta ya Lugz |
| Fuck love, here we believe in nothin but slugs |
| Always you see him in the club frontin wit the ice grill… |
| Be like, he’s alright, but he’s not real |
| Actin like he got a money, cause he never hold steel… |
| Be like, he’s alright, but he’s not real |
| Always see him wit bodyguards and rap like he kill |
| He’s alright, but he’s not real |
| So if the feds ever indict him, you know he gonna squeal… |
| Be like, he’s alright, but he’s not real |
| Yo, I squeeze of gats and spit facts when I breath on tracks |
| Got that hot shit, that make you ease on back |
| I’ll make you leave the game like Ma$e, and get ya name erased |
| Walk threw from place to place, and change the chase |
| I’m givin him terror, for the new millenium era |
| Automatic Semi’s wit the fully clip and the leather |
| Poppin' champagne like we celebrating whatever |
| Switch to the chin, shoot top, hair and a feather |
| Versatile, walking threw the aisle, hurtin the crowd |
| Even got the god in the cloud, observing this style |
| He love the way I do this, leavin niggas clueless |
| It’s Prospect, it’s off wit ya head, you should’ve knew this |
| My twin???, cock and squeeze, we stoppin G’s |
| You better follow up, these niggas can’t rock wit these |
| Straight up, I speak life threw the mic though |
| Sprayin the town, and layin it down like whoa! |
| Always you see him in the club frontin wit the ice grill… |
| Be like, he’s alright, but he’s not real |
| Actin like he got a money, cause he never hold steel… |
| Be like, he’s alright, but he’s not real |
| Always see him wit bodyguards and rap like he kill |
| He’s alright, but he’s not real |
| So if the feds ever indict him, you know he gonna squeal… |
| Be like, she’s alright, but she’s not real |
| Remy Ma |
| Just in case they ask you who said that (me) |
| All these bitches in this industry are dead wack (trash) |
| And I’m dead nice (cash) |
| And I show real |
| And ya hoes is just gassed like Mobil |
| And rap to wack is something I don’t feel |
| And I don’t lie (nope) |
| I just smoke lies |
| You broke |
| And everybody know you choke |
| You ain’t never live la vida loca |
| I make shit bubble |
| Check fizz like soda |
| Remy’s that bitch |
| And you know that |
| Joe’s the garden (BX) |
| Prospect’s the squad (TS) |
| And he reps the Bronx |
| And it’s all about us, fuck ya’ll |
| I rap but I’m no a rapper |
| Bitch, I’m quick to slap a bitch |
| Another spaz on your ass |
| Remy be attacking shit |
| Poppin shit |
| But I’m back in it |
| Back in the act we got the mac in it |
| You are fraudulent |
| And all my shit’s immaculate |
| Always you see him in the club frontin wit the ice grill… |
| Be like, he’s alright, but he’s not real |
| Actin like he got a money, cause he never hold steel… |
| Be like, he’s alright, but he’s not real |
| Always see him wit bodyguards and rap like he kill |
| He’s alright, but he’s not real |
| So if the feds ever indict him, you know he gonna squeal… |
| Be like, she’s alright, but she’s not real |