Who's Really Real?

Hate it or love it, I'm the realest nigga getting it
If you envision different, then listen while I'm spitting this
I wasn't born with silver spoons in my mouth
In fact I had platinum
Cause when in the womb, I started stacking
Who other partner you know, steady making his dough
If you ain't bout getting them figures
I ain't doing business with you
Picture B with no cash
Like Wilt C. with no ass
Back of the plane, with no class
Yeah right, I'm having that
Cash aside, hurt niggas pride
Cause I don't have no best friends
Stay with clients or associates, shit
Or those I'm getting doe with
T. Jones told me
As a youngin, look I didn't like nobody holding me
Imagine now I'm holder, what'll happen if you close to me
May you burn if you flirt with fire
Acquire doe & live your life
Yet learn to make your circle tighter
Fire those who ain't riding with you
And keep your shit official
Get your dough, then get some more
For sure, B-Eazy's riding with you

Who's really real
So many squeal & steady claim that they trill
The real soldiers out there dying on the battlefield
Who's really real
Is it determined by how many niggas you shot
How many glocks you done popped
How many cars you copped
Who's really real
It ain't about where you're from
It's how you come
I don't care about your past & what you've done, nigga
Who's really real
Some niggas flirt with death
Fiending for wealth
Look in the mirror, nigga ask yourself
Who's really real

We just had the deadliest day in Iraq
So I called my brother just to hear him talk back
You'd think he'd be safe, stationed in SC, an A.F. mechanic
But with double-digits dying in chopper crashes, it's frantic
God damn it! The death toll is in the thousands
Same number as the people died in New York
This nigga Bush is wilding
Yet smiling, while soldiers dying in a turf war
But what for
Bush yelling out "Fore!"
While wheeling around on a golf course
Shit and I'm from Texas, nigga
The only same state executing more convicts
Than the Windy City's crime rate
And niggas dying everyday for cheese
The same war up in these streets
Is the same war their having overseas
Don't get it twisted, that gang banging is real
The first nigga that showed me a blood sign got killed
Few shots to the back of his head
They watched his blood spill, and for what
Another soldier dead in the field

Who's really real
So many squeal & steady claim that they trill
The real soldiers out there dying on the battlefield
Who's really real
Is it determined by how many niggas you shot
How many glocks you done popped
How many cars you copped
Who's really real
It ain't about where you're from
It's how you come
I don't care about your past & what you've done, nigga
Who's really real
Some niggas flirt with death
Fiending for wealth
Look in the mirror, nigga ask yourself
Who's really real

One man, one mind
Few rhymes, new sound
All I had to elevate Barge House off the ground
What you thought
Niggas would support by showing me love
But all I got was fake hugs
Soft daps and shrugs
Look at that arrogant little nigga
Thinking he running shit
Popping shit about him heading the city
The next P. Diddy
On the road to riches
With a vengeance like Fifty
Stuck to his MP and his keyboard
Like "What the fuck is he on?"
That little nigga writes and produces his sounds? Cool
Plus mixes them down and still shitting on clowns, too
No, he could never make it
Too long, I've felt the hatred
My flow declared the greatest
Yet, you're steady hating this
I went against the grain
Gained little game from J
Yet, similar to Jay
I'm gone do it my way
Stay regional if you may
And watch me skate off to the top
Blowing paper in fifty states
I'm gone