For Real

When hard times seem to find you (yeah, that's for real)

When all your good days behind you (yeah, that's for real)

When there's no sofa to recline to (yeah, that's for real)

And you just constantly have to pay a due (yeah that's for real)

But if you broke shit straight till you make a little money

E'ybody gonna say you done changed

And e'ry motherfucka think e'ry other motherfucka tryin' to find a new hold in the game

See it ain't nothin' but the real

Niggas gettin' killed for the materialistic

Hoes on the hunt for a quick trick

Ain't shit shakin' but the leaves in them trees

Yo motherfuckin' knees and my goddamn car keys

I know it ain't really shit to it but to do it

But trying I usually go through it

But so we do it like a mack, in fact, I keep my cool

You ask me who my master is, I say my gun rules

It choose only to make moves with a certain pack

The real pack, 'cause them bustas try to hold you back

In fact, I could name a few, but I ain't gon' waste

No precious time talkin' about them on my precious tape

Pussy sucka—in disguise, undercover

Fake brothas—tryin' to come between another

Just like a wedge and some wood

Tryin' to put a split in your shit, slick busta up to no good

As I kick back, smoke a beedi with the needy

Society's gettin' greedy, ain't no future in your peace treaty

They try to label every rapper in the industry

Especially if he speaks of Hennessy and independency

If you're real

When hard times seem to find you (yeah, that's for real)

When all your good days behind you (yeah, that's for real)

When there's no sofa to recline to (yeah, that's for real)

And you just constantly have to pay a due (yeah that's for real)

But if you broke shit straight till you make a little money

E'ybody gonna say you done changed

And e'ry motherfucka think e'ry other motherfucka tryin' to find a new hold in the game

Who am I?

It's 8-Bizzal

Do you recall?

Mr. Big, Mr. Big

In your trunk splittin' wigs

Mane, that's the same time I could recollect

Young trick in my face asking me if I claim sets

And here's this other fool with dreads growin' from his head

He tryin' to tell me 'bout some shit Farrakhan said

I try to listen cause 8ball ain't the one to knock it

But I can't hear over the echo from my empty pocket

Instead of sweating me, fool, sweat Chuck D

Cause I been true to playa shit since '83

Southern funkadelic preacher, I'm here to reach ya

Don't be so prejudiced, and let my holy words teach ya

I never rap about sets, 'cause I ain't been through that

Even though a nigga did dirt and packed straps

I don't do what you do, and you don't see what I see

Therefore we could not be the same, do you feel me?

I come from Tennessee and love drinkin' Hennessy

Peace to KRS, but here's my philosophy

I got the remedy four seconds after now

Yo my nig', tell 'em who you is

Who am I?

MJG, Pimp Tight

Knock on wood twice, pour the drinks, dim the lights

What I say, is every day, P-O-etry

The R-E-A-L, same shit that I sell

Hell, you gon' do yo' thang, I'm gon' do mine

Fine, I'm gon' sip some wine

You might find some other way to pass your time

It ain't bout where you from, it's bout what you do

And doin' wrong gon' make clues, so trouble gon' stick to you

True blue pimp shit is hard to break

But playa hatin' bustas put the icin' on the cake

Hate to see they own homies with a few ends

And still wonder why they can't get no dividends

A man ain't who he say he is

If he gotta give false information, 'bout what he had and how he live

And don't shit but the truth set you free

So trick, stop all that lyin', get those shackles 'way from me

He who tells the first lie gets the first smack

A chain react on the mack, flossin' fake facts

A freaky naked hoe makes no record deal

Perpetrators, get for real

When hard times seem to find you (yeah, that's for real)

When all your good days behind you (yeah, that's for real)

When there's no sofa to recline to (yeah, that's for real)

And you just constantly have to pay a due (yeah that's for real)

But if you broke shit straight till you make a little money

E'ybody gonna say you done changed

And e'ry motherfucka think e'ry other motherfucka tryin' to find a new hold in the game

See in my past, I thought it was all in my mind

But in time, I came to find, people are blind

To the fact, I don't give a fuck about your thoughts

Motherfuck the radio and fuck the magazine talk

Walk with the playa down the highway of what I say

Hear what I say is just another way to make me paid

Instead of gettin' sprayed or runnin' from police

I am in the studio, smoked out, bustin' rhymes

And jealous hoes, male and female

Been givin' a nigga hell, now that I am Jealous of the fact that my mack is not an act

Instead of packin' gats, I'm strapped with my DATs

And all my homies slang dope for a livin'

Or livin' in a prison 'cause they couldn't fade the system

I miss them, but still I gots to get up on my I'm on a mission so the future won't see me in prison

Niggas come to me with demos of they poetry

I try to listen, cause I used to be that nigga, G

Now do you feel me?

I hope you feel these

Words, from Iz-8-Biz-all, for real

When hard times seem to find you (yeah, that's for real)

When all your good days behind you (yeah, that's for real)

When there's no sofa to recline to (yeah, that's for real)

And you just constantly have to pay a due (yeah that's for real)

But if you broke shit straight till you make a little money

E'ybody gonna say you done changed

And e'ry motherfucka think e'ry other motherfucka tryin' to find a new hold in the game