Keep It Real DJ Hurricane (Ft. Faith Evans & Lost Boyz)

Yo believe I paid the dues man I started in the game
With mans on linden and Devan we drinking ghetto champagne
Slinging rocks and packing Glock's on the blocks
It's early in the morning I'm selling tumbs from my Reebok

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 niggas 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 gat's
Carry across town because we tapping Niggers Hoodrats

But they don't want the fam
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

[Chorus]
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 hand in the air we salute you
Bounce it up town bounce it down south
Bounce bounce it up town bounce it down south