Yeah, huh, my boy Young Bleed in here, C-Loc in here, an you know the  
 colonel MP up in here  
  
 Chorus: Young Bleed  
  
 Nigga we gonna keep it real dawg, hustiln high, cuz live niggas keep it  
 real young, can we keep it real Loc? Tryin not to spill no blood, if  
 it's real show a nigga love, nigga.  
  
 Verse 1- Young Bleed  
  
 Nigga it burns for gold that rose before me that was fakin' the funk,  
 long an behold I come to get it, so I'm takin' it in chunks, out to  
 lunch for brunch, maggots gonna munch in perpendicular, order money, man  
 slaughter, I write this shit thats good for you, how many mutha fuckas  
 must get dealt wit? Before someone kick down yo door, an leave you  
 helpless, is you feelin' my fear, feelin' my vibe, at the same time, I  
 dirty my theroy, clickin my tribe, tryin' ta claim mine, hush,  
 what you discovered don't shake the rictor, my nigga, my nerve, go get  
 the camera, get the picture, I'm laughin' at y'all for tryin' to ball,  
 wit yo mug on me, movin' a million mutha fuckas strappin murder machine,  
 I come dainty an benidine, so gimme mine, sippin great wine, polishin  
 pussy thats genuine, paralized to the format still smokin' blunts for  
 days, an mama's theroies an ways, got me prepared ha, niggas ain't  
 ready, but if it wasn't for the grace of God, they say you couldn't live  
 life against all odds, I know it's hard, but it's real though, I'm 'bout  
 ta peel out, everytime I touch somethin', what ya feel yo, nigga, give a  
 fuck if you bigga.  
  
 Chorus  
  
 Verse 2- C-Loc  
  
 It be a piper push poundses, wit playas who wanna rise, pick the pen  
 then ??? my rhyme, eh, so now I can make a leagal paper in this rap  
 game, at the first used to hear that boy playin' wit steel toys, now I'm  
 worse, can't break the curse, y'all laugh until I die, comin' from the  
 dirt, so watch a young hustler rise an shine, like the ghetto  
 mastermind, (bout it bout it) let em know, why do, doin' all that lyin'  
 got the nation down to ???, young mutha fucka ain't do shit, can't stand  
 the heat get out the kitchen, before trigga fingas get to itchin', getty  
 up, get into position to have twitchin', thinkin', damn, how could I  
 have mention, stop trippin', keep it real nigga.  
  
 Chorus x2  
  
 Verse 3- Master P  
  
 Ughh! I live my life of a youngsta wit money, to many, bitches  
 pandhandlers, beggas an dummies, tryin ta, steal my soul, I mean suck me  
 dry, for these 20 inch rims on my ghetto ride, I couldn't lose my life  
 tryin' to keep my shoes, sell my soul to the devil, in the ghetto you  
 lose, an ain't no, nigga gonna make it, fakin' the game, too many blacks  
 behind bars for fortune and fame, I live, my life, readin' jail house  
 letters, I'm workin', money orders sendin weed through sweaters, I seen  
 mama's turn off of hustlas and killas, my last supper probably gonna be  
 wit fiends an dealers. Ughhhh!  
  
 Chorus x3  
  
 (Master P talking during chorus)  
  
 C-Loc records, keep it real, for all the records, keep it real Loc the  
 whole south, to the east, to the west, to the middle, huh, we gonna keep  
 it real though, keep it real Loc