Fat Joe - Still Real lyrics
Fat Joe [Joseph Antonio Cartagena] The Bronx, New York City, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Fat Joe - Still Real lyrics]
Be the realest shit I ever wrote
(Money and cars bitches) shit Is Real Part 2
(drugs) modern day (society yaknow?)
See what it's like to walk in my shoes
It ain't all fun and games (ya heard?)
Yo yo i'm sick and tired of stressin
Every days a different lesson
I'm free-fallin tryna leave
This deep depression my son Joey still slow
My moms got cancer in her throat
My big brother sniffin dope
Lemme know how many motherfucker wanna
Be just like me screamed at and treated like
Shit by your wifey
This hot bitch be sweatin the coke cash
My baby mother think I grow dough out my ass
It's like, how much fight I got left in me?
Niggas won't be happy till they bring
The fuckin death of me
But, you never see Joe look
Weak or flow off beat
And Charlie sees the board in four more weeks
You gotta walk where I walked
Bang where I bang slang where I hang
To get where I'm going to stay where I stay
Blaze who I blazed pay dues how I payed
To get where I'm going to
Uh, yo, the South Bronx, nine years later
Ain't nuttin changed
Niggas still playa haters
TS the best that's done it
Forever live and never front it
Reminisce of when I used to hold
Heat and tell niggas "run it"
Now we flooded with jewels, hundreds of dudes
Crowd the Coliseum to hear
They favorite tunes
Then at the time of our prime
We caught a sick one
The angels came down, took my twin Big Pun
Shit were unbalanced throughout
The whole world
All I could do was try to provide
For his seeds and his old girl
Hope your listenin
Tell Ton' that we still missin him
I'm like a prisoner in jail with no visitors
Yeah, uh
Aiyyo the third verse is dedicated to you
Even though you switched teams
I'm praying for you we used to stay up all
Night countin dollar for dollar
You was my son's godfather
Where the fuck is your honor?
Can't even rap the shit we did together
You'd probably have me shackled locked
Down doin bids forever
You broke the first code
I'd like to twist ya wifey
Till it roasts gold
Snitch nigga, turned state to sold ya soul
How could a nigga that was
Clappin in the streets
Start yappin to the deez
Like what I rightly should believe?
Like ever verse is a charge
For every hurt there's a scar
I never once tried to hurt cha'll
I'm just tryna do me, sell a few CD's
Buy land in Miami and cop a new B come on!
Motherfuckers think it's sweet
Think a nigga got money and
A nigga don't feel pain
You ain't never feel my pain
You don't know what the fuck I'm goin through
Niggas lookin at me like, "He got it made"
Like I ain't lose Pun
My grandfather a week later
My aunt a month later
Like my fuckin sister ain't in
A coma right now!
You motherfuckers don't know pain!
Let's get one thing clear money'll
Never buy you happiness
My true niggas walk with me now!