Real Nigga Blues Scarface

Damn, its hard being a real nigga
Clutching on steal triggers
Pouring kool-aid on hilfigers
For niggas I cut for
Pull a ho out my truck for
Take a bullet to my gut for
Shoot up your cuz for
And nigga you askin' me what for?
'cuz this check I wrote until death won't bounce
'cuz to quit is to care and excuses don't count

Yeah, the real nigga blues

Short sticks and long brooms
Two feet planted whether it be the tomb or the courtroom
Bullet wounds in my flesh
Powder burns I digest
On the front line I press
Until in peace I may rest
For battles I can't win
With stripes I must defend
Done been to the pen, behind friends
And I still can't turn my flags in
When you break weak I got to stand strong
I strive to go hard while you strive to go home
These checks I write are required day and night
For better or worse, ups and downs
Or just plain old fist fights
Packin' all the weight
Puttin' in work from birth
Running myself in the dirt
And you askin' me why my back hurt?
Even when your gal tried to give me some fish
I eighty-sixed that shit
Pulled your coat but you was scared to dismiss that bitch
But I guess you got to be one of me or walk in my shoes
Or drink from the cup that I drink to feel my blues