Check this out.
 *(Yukmouth talking)*
 Yes.
 2wice.
 Uh.
 (What's crackin?)
 Drink-A-Lot, Smoke-A-Lot.
 (Haha, is that right?)
 And Phats Bossi.
 Yes.
 All of my niggas ridaz.
 Check it.

 Chorus *(Yukmouth)*

 All of my niggas ridaz.
 small time grindas, pimps and big timers.
 Whether it's heiron or hemp wit China.
 Or got a bitch on the strip sellin vagina.
 Shit Is Real.
 One mo time.

 Verse 1 *(Yukmouth of the Luniz)*

 Niggas fat
 nigga I come down strikin from the clouds like lightnin
 and smoke the ground
 show you how to blow a pound
 wit out coughin
 how to work a Nina Ross wit out walkin
 funny style
 wit out a half honey child jockin wit out flossin
 my niggas could peep out what I'm thinkin bout, wit out talkin
 one look at a crook
 my nigga book, an then the Tech start barkin
 shoot up the whole parkin lot
 bullets ricochet apartments
 got bitches slangin martian
 wit big titties like Dolly Pardon
 in the projects
 dope fiends loose they check, then flip like Martin
 walkin down the street butt naked and crack rocks sparkin
 startin shit in front of my buildin
 here comes the sargent
 raid a nigga house, juss some days to pay a warrant
 that dirty varmit
 back to the Regime conglomerate
 where the climate
 is always sunny for money
 the small timers
 become grindas
 escalate to big timers
 pimp niggas got bitches trickin vagina.
 This Shit Is Real nigga!

 *(Chorus)* 2x

 Verse 2 *(2wice)*

 Give us rememory morse
 of course
 takin no short fa sho
 poppin the cop wit glocks
 like I'm Tupac Shakur
 cuz everyday we high as hell
 dope is what we try an sell
 nickle and dimes for buyin yayo
 til I got lines of clientele
 load up yo clip
 click-clack
 hold up yo shit
 get back
 if ya know ya shit
 admitt that
 roll up a spliff
 an hit that
 roll up the crib
 made a nigga cost mail
 you tried to post
 but ya lay 'em in a coffin
 the boss man
 whips up another batch
 pick up some other scratch
 wit clips and some other straps
 the 2wice suguest you stop
 cuz my loot no share
 cuz I invest in glocks
 How ya shoot that there?
 I do got playas
 pimps slash some hustlas
 that do got they rapid self
 pass them suckels
 I flip a Tech wit a muffle
 greet the flex wit my muscle
 the Luniz
 doin they thing-ama-jig
 an it must sell.

 *(Chorus)* 2x
 Eh!
 Shit is real!

 Verse 3 *(Numskull of the Luniz)*

 Niggas feel that
 when niggas found at
 Drink-A-Lot wasn't even found yet
 when 4, 15's was the only sound check
 yo, what happened to the side shows
 when niggas used to ride those
 Vet's and 50's
 to be connected drunkin rhinos
 when bitches was dusted
 sex was like "Fuck it"
 an no real nigga was ashamed to ride a bucket
 when shit was goin down
 we followed it
 if she ain't suckin dick by now
 she swallowed it
 wallow in yo guiltiness
 everybody candy
 and everybody rich like filthiness
 but I can still see this
 Ghost Town
 ridin to another status
 where everything is based on who the baddest
 we had Lil Kim's
 but they juss wasn't out the closet
 an now we got 'em fuckin wit each other on some Mobb shit
 Mobb shit
 Mobb one
 Mobb two
 an then I got a Mobb for when there's else to do
 get used to the crew.

 Verse 4 *(Phats Bossi)

 What?
 See all young guns
 where they come from
 blocks of hoodlums
 the fake shooks ones
 they get touched wit busted ear drums
 raw meat
 me an Keek Sneek we start the big beat
 if they mouth leak
 wit big heats
 get put to sleep
 Mr. Phats slash Jaco
 I'm out for pecos
 go for gusto
 Mobb villans we flippin Lexos
 never trust those
 dirty cats
 they get the wet nose
 get they head froze
 Thugged Out, playin in wet clothes
 the life of cut throat
 cut throat
 I'm in my hustle
 show my muscle
 flex off, then start to tussle
 young guys, pushin Hot Rods
 begin the saga
 blow like Hoffa
 stack chips like Godfather
 Shit Is Real.

 *(Chorus)* 2x