Return of the Real Lloyd Banks

[Verse 1]
I don't look for trouble, trouble finds me
I be chilling with the grilling right beside me
Wisely he put his fucking eyes back in place
I don’t need a case to come out a one year ace
You should see my face, niggas feed you BS
Bitches feed me grapes
I feed off negativity its easy bait
All my niggas need a plate and those that don't even hate
Those that don't believe in fate
Suffer from denial
Its funny how I succeed
I be fucking up a while
How they were getting their shot
While I was stuck under the bowel
Drove 100 valve makes me smile
My lifestyle style make it rain on the crowd
A black cloud, I make a movie, nigga
Act wild, Stephen King 'em, bring 'em
With the flowers beds and niggas singing
I’m swinging and my medallions a hundred thousand
They crowd 'em in public housing 'cause I grew up round 'em
What up nigga?

[Chorus]
Its the return of the real
This ain't real
The game, ain't nothing changed
Except the change and these niggas looking strange
The return of the real
Off the brain smelling like Mary Jane
And my chain I’m as raw as cocaine
Its the return of the real
Don't complain, up your game, maintain
Keep it still shit is real in the field
The return of the real and I return
To whom it may concern
These niggas don't learn
They being burnt, burnt