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featuring Phats Bossi, 2wice 

Check this out. 

*(Yukmouth talking)* 

Yes. 
2wice. 
Uh. 
(What's crackin?) 
Drink-A-Lot, Smoke-A-Lot. 
(Haha, is that right?) 
And Phats Bossi. 
Yes. 
All of my niggas ridaz. 
Check it. 

Chorus *(Yukmouth)* 

All of my niggas ridaz. 
small time grindas, pimps and big timers. 
Whether it's heiron or hemp wit China. 
Or got a bitch on the strip sellin vagina. 
Shit Is Real. 
One mo time. 

Verse 1 *(Yukmouth of the Luniz)* 

Niggas fat 
nigga I come down strikin from the clouds like lightnin 
and smoke the ground 
show you how to blow a pound 
wit out coughin 
how to work a Nina Ross wit out walkin 
funny style 
wit out a half honey child jockin wit out flossin 
my niggas could peep out what I'm thinkin bout, wit out talkin 
one look at a crook 
my nigga book, an then the Tech start barkin 
shoot up the whole parkin lot 
bullets ricochet apartments 
got bitches slangin martian 
wit big titties like Dolly Pardon 
in the projects 
dope fiends loose they check, then flip like Martin 
walkin down the street butt naked and crack rocks sparkin 
startin shit in front of my buildin 
here comes the sargent 
raid a nigga house, juss some days to pay a warrant 
that dirty varmit 
back to the Regime conglomerate 
where the climate 
is always sunny for money 
the small timers 
become grindas 
escalate to big timers 
pimp niggas got bitches trickin vagina. 
This Shit Is Real nigga! 

*(Chorus)* 2x 

Verse 2 *(2wice)* 

Give us rememory morse 
of course 
takin no short fa sho 
poppin the cop wit glocks 
like I'm Tupac Shakur 
cuz everyday we high as hell 
dope is what we try an sell 
nickle and dimes for buyin yayo 
til I got lines of clientele 
load up yo clip 
click-clack 
hold up yo shit 
get back 
if ya know ya shit 
admitt that 
roll up a spliff 
an hit that 
roll up the crib 
made a nigga cost mail 
you tried to post 
but ya lay 'em in a coffin 
the boss man 
whips up another batch 
pick up some other scratch 
wit clips and some other straps 
the 2wice suguest you stop 
cuz my loot no share 
cuz I invest in glocks 
How ya shoot that there? 
I do got playas 
pimps slash some hustlas 
that do got they rapid self 
pass them suckels 
I flip a Tech wit a muffle 
greet the flex wit my muscle 
the Luniz 
doin they thing-ama-jig 
an it must sell. 

*(Chorus)* 2x 
Eh! 
Shit is real! 

Verse 3 *(Numskull of the Luniz)* 

Niggas feel that 
when niggas found at 
Drink-A-Lot wasn't even found yet 
when 4, 15's was the only sound check 
yo, what happened to the side shows 
when niggas used to ride those 
Vet's and 50's 
to be connected drunkin rhinos 
when bitches was dusted 
sex was like "Fuck it" 
an no real nigga was ashamed to ride a bucket 
when shit was goin down 
we followed it 
if she ain't suckin dick by now 
she swallowed it 
wallow in yo guiltiness 
everybody candy 
and everybody rich like filthiness 
but I can still see this 
Ghost Town 
ridin to another status 
where everything is based on who the baddest 
we had Lil Kim's 
but they juss wasn't out the closet 
an now we got 'em fuckin wit each other on some Mobb shit 
Mobb shit 
Mobb one 
Mobb two 
an then I got a Mobb for when there's else to do 
get used to the crew. 

Verse 4 *(Phats Bossi) 

What? 
See all young guns 
where they come from 
blocks of hoodlums 
the fake shooks ones 
they get touched wit busted ear drums 
raw meat 
me an Keek Sneek we start the big beat 
if they mouth leak 
wit big heats 
get put to sleep 
Mr. Phats slash Jaco 
I'm out for pecos 
go for gusto 
Mobb villans we flippin Lexos 
never trust those 
dirty cats 
they get the wet nose 
get they head froze 
Thugged Out, playin in wet clothes 
the life of cut throat 
cut throat 
I'm in my hustle 
show my muscle 
flex off, then start to tussle 
young guys, pushin Hot Rods 
begin the saga 
blow like Hoffa 
stack chips like Godfather 
Shit Is Real. 

*(Chorus)* 2x

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