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1977 Wasn't no cocaine in my hood yet
The brothers were stuck on chuck without a mindset
I got tired of watching Good Times, feeling
Like JJ, I'm standing in the food bank line
My momma was riding on the bus trying to get to work
Early in the morning, it's cold and her knees hurt
She got a.38 sitting in her purse 'cause
My moms was the King County jail nurse
So how in the hell could you tell, Minx, that I never lived this
When you was just a snotty-nosed age six young buck just graduated?
And you're lying when you say you're street educated
'Cause I'm a veteran, boy, and you's a new booty
So stop fronting to your friends like you knew me
'Cause you don't and you never did, kid
So fuck your respect and the shit you claim you did
So are you real when you're claiming you gangbang?
Doing everything to gain fame and get yourself a name
But I done seen my homies getting smoked over dice
Games when you were still at home doing nice things
Back in the days of turtle wax on Cadillacs
Life to a brother was hoes and MACs
I had to come up some way
Pimp daddies and ex-Black Panthers used to school me
While Moms was putting in eight to 12, I was
In the hood getting schooled on making mail
I can't let my moms die a poor Black sister
Gotta make her richer
So tell me what's real, partner?
You gonna buy me a motherfucking car?
So what's real, fool?
You gonna buy me a motherfucking car?
Back when MLK way was Empire Way, I was stuck on broke but I used to
Hear the pimps say, "Better get what you can get before you get got
Come up and snatch yours and buy yourself a nice
Spot." And that stuck in my head to this day, G
So I apply pimp game to life, you see?
But I ain't beating on my sister in the streets
I'ma focus on my real enemy
Yeah
So if I'm pimping, then who's my hoies
In DC living in a big white house, bro?
Changes his name every four years
Mr
Carter caught me slipping, but Reagan wasn't getting his
I never wanted a handout, young Jake
I never got jealous over how much a brother makes
So I was on my own, no love in the school
Zone, no Blacks in the books, so I'm gone
And now the only color that I love is green, see
'Cause my history books never taught me about me
I may not like where I've been, but I'm loving where I am
Prime rib, fuck Spam
So tell me what's real, partner?
You gonna buy me a motherfucking car?
So what's real, fool?
Yeah, I'd much rather be behind the mic than the gat, but
The simple fact that my pockets is fat means I can't relax
You know what I'm saying?
Criticized by the mainstream for not being the
House jig and keeping things squeaky clean
But I can't so I ain't
But I won't play the hard role just because you think
That it's real to say you kill when you never held steel
You try to sag when you're rolling in cake feel
Back in the days, you was break dancing, see
I remember when you had tight pants, G
So Mr
Rap Critic, when you tries to check me about my
Cars and my girls, claiming you never could
Respect me, you really think I give a damn, partner?
The shit I've been through, man
I used to roll with the hoes, hit the Caddy and slam the doors
Living alone, cellular phone, having no furniture in my home
Rolling to Canada, making my mail, giving a trick a piece of tail
Living it large, keeping it hard, life was kind of odd
And rat-a-tat-tat with my gat that sat in my lap, G
The Hilton Hotel was my spot, I'm running my thing, see
I went from hustling cheese to double
Platinum LPs but you still can't feel me
Boy, the head don't get fat if you know where you're at
Instead of riding my back, check your own dat and that's facts
Now what's real, partner?
So what's real?
Yeah, to all you clowns running around
Town telling people me and yous was down
When I was doing parties at the Boys Club
You were selling matchbooks and weed, partner
I was about handling my business and
You was about smoking your goodness
So check yourself you want to see the big head, champ
And that's real to the fullest and I'm out
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