Lil Fame - The Hill That's Real lyrics

[Verse 1] I'm on the hill where the sh** is real You would suppose it's all about money, hoes, and clothes Territories in the smash like a crash from blasting It's all about s** and a sa** a**a**ins It always gotta be a flick up The cops making a pickup Or n***as getting money from a stickup Lost boys running around like a mad man k**ing, or either getting k**ed from a bad plan One shorty had got his life tooken From a sound like this, you know it gotta be in Brooklyn They take it off as if they gotta start street That's why the brothers on the Hill will bust a n***a in a heartbeat Yo, everybody want to live long So you bust another brother for looking in your f**ing face for 'im I gotta live it, plus roll with a temper Cause n***as go out the same way they get ya Every other day, somebody gets born And the n***as on the corner playing the wall like handball The only one remain in a bad game Life's a pain; n***as retire from the knuckle game Some n***as are k**ers when you drink Baccardi But when they sober, they wouldn't bust a balloon at a birthday party It's easy to tell what type of sh** sells From the streets of the hometown I'm pushing a Beemer, smoking a fat ounce I'm from the Hill where the motherf**ers are buck wild n***as catching bodies most of the time beating trial Like the Island, co*ks**ers'll get touched n***as want beef, but hold a grudge like a clutch n***as on the deep dirty pack guns Cause up on the real Hill, it's blow holes, money, no fair ones I'm on my own cause my name's in a box Only in jail, they playing for keeps up on the Hill That's real [Verse 2] n***as get slayed on the regular f** the crack game, now funeral homes getting paid No time for n***as doing something for nothing And it's hectic, so now I pack a burner like I'm going hunting I feel on the Hill in the 'ville, n***as build as they deal But to make the bill, they gotta k** n***as'll murder another n***a and cold jet Then come back in five minutes to the scene of the set I seen cops playing n***as like they was s**ers n***as started flipping, bringing the ruckus to the motherf**ers Punk-a** cops are f*ggots Cops try to knock n***as, n***as be dropping cops like a bad habit A little shorty was a beggar But he saved and went abroad and did a job from a bootlegger He got props from the boys and he pulled the girls With two shots, little shorty thought he ruled the world The sh** he had, he was too rough with it Little shorty had a heart like his name was David Berkowitz The type of little motherf**er with a hard figure New school shorty jibed with the wrong n***as He hara**ed the wrong n***as for cash And I ain't trying to get bra** But I'mma put sh** in a smash Let his little a** know I'm playing for keeps And that's to k** Up on the Hill that's real [Verse 3] n***as are S.T.D. -- scared to d**h Shorty was a vet, and a threat Handed him beef like a chef Straight up and down, the shorty was a strong n***a Yep, he was, but shorty f**ed with the wrong n***a He stuck a n***a for his j**els And the ghetto with two shots n***as are packing 16 shots or better He said, "Your money, run your j**els and cash" He said no one gon' get hurt, it was a little n***a blast He bust his only two shots and didn't hit Money bust back and let off a whole clip Shorty ran and stopped and dropped Here comes the cops -- they found his a** in a lot Shorty died because another n***a struck n***as ain't joking -- you play p**y, you get f**ed sh** is ill so I chill and do things on how I feel They playing for keeps up on the Hill that's real