Keep It Real Lyrics - Lost Boyz

Yo believe I paid the dues man I started in the game 

With my man's on Linden and Devane we drinking ghetto champagne 

Slinging rocks and packing glocks on the blocks 

It's early in the morning I'm selling tumbs from my Reeboks 

Tres, nicks and dimes I write rhymes 

But the ghetto times they got the cheeks doing crimes 

The street life yeah that's the only life I know 

Where sling rocks bust shots and push yeah yo 

Sit on crates keep their backs against gates 

Every man is insane he's got a brain like Norman Bates 

Timberland boots ski hats we pack gats 

Carry across town because we tapping niggas hoodrats 

But they don't want the family 

See a south side Jamaica Queen fellas get down man 

Listen so what your crew is X rated 

Peoples if you violate you getting violated 

Come on and keep it real, this is saying 

That the lost boy and group home fam want it all what would you do 

And if you feel that you'se a real soldier from the street 

Throw your hands in the air we salute you 

Bounce it up town, bounce it down south 

Bounce, bounce it up town, bounce it down south 

I had a messed up childhood the head is mad nappy 

I need money in a snap gee kid 

I'm trying to blow like Papi 

Fat cat the street life is where it's at 

Peeling caps so yo we got to stay strapped 

Terrified 'cause the crew from the south side is bustin' 

No question I keep my hear in braids, Taliq got dreads 

Hangin' out in the reds wearing Levi's and Pro-Keds 

Pouring beer on the curb for the dead 

I had to bring drama to some powder head 

Hey yo cut the music down 

Yo half the world thought the album failed in this '94 and it's on 

I'm smoking weed in '96 with my peeps 

Jetting from the police 'cause police they'se a bunch of creeps 

I'm testing off the new burners in the park 

We sleep during the day and creep when it's dark 

I once had to cry when I seen Tyrone die 

This black on black crime I cram to understand why 

Baby girls having kids in their teens 

Young fellows baggy jeans slinging crack to the crack fiends 

That's the type of lifestyle that I lead 

With my fams on the corner drinking beers and smoking weed 

Believe I been through all the struggles and the pain 

I'm ripping out my hairs but I can't get to my brain 

I want the gold teeth and chains 

I hustle with Timberland boots and rainsuits when it rains 

Fools make your moves pay dues 

Give up your cheese you loose my baby boy need shoes 

Stepping to the cheeks you made an error 

You been to the house of pain now welcome to my yard of terror 

What you think I'm some sucker? 

Word to him I stomp you out with my tim chukkas 

Who, who you stepping to the lost boy crew 

Boy you stomped that ass is through 

Come on and keep it real, this is saying 

That the lost boy and group home fam want it all what would you do 

And if you feel that you'se a real soldier from the street 

Throw your hands in the air we salute you 

Bounce it up town, bounce it down south 

Bounce, bounce it up town, bounce it down south 

See we live the street life 

I smoking blunts with the wife stay on point like a 

'Cause every day on Rockaway is getting hotter 

I can't do what a wanna I do what I gotta 

Survive I might not be around in '95 

See I was taught young to be strong and just strive 

So nowadays we packing guns 

We racking grimy hills for funds and I stash all my sons mons 

A little man to look after 

Taking rap as a joke but I see no laughter 

To my man Charles Suitte and Big Tig 

In Atlanta and V A 

Come on and keep it real, this is saying 

That the lost boy and group home fam want it all what would you do 

And if you feel that you'se a real soldier from the street 

Throw your hands in the air we salute you 

Bounce it up town, bounce it down south 

Bounce bounce it up town, bounce it down south