Sadat X - You Can't Front (sh** is Real) lyrics

"Ayo, what the f** is this?" "Yo, that's that sh** I was telling you about. That's that Sadat X, Diamond D, and Lord Finesse beat." "Oh okay, alright alright." Ayo you know the sh** is real (So don't front, jack) Yo, you know the sh** is real (So don't front) Ayo you know the sh** is real (So don't front, jack) Ayo you know the sh** is real (You can't front) [Sadat X] Hmmm, straight to my toes making sh** that hits The brothers often say that the quiet bald head Is like a bad motherf**er Now Rule bread and uptown fame Two to the head, what, daddy listen up Ayo, don't beat me over the head with that dumb sh**, dad This is the type of sh** I do, and Diamond me and you Along with your crew and the Nubians, too Made up some next sh**, ayo but wash it off the skit Rapping in this whole soul over, that know from ?throw over? Who was in the rough, but Al said I'm the roughest Yo buck, this sh** is hot, Diamond, you know how I feel Every time you call my crib you get some wreck sh** is real I come with herbs and verbs, always a step ahead You can't nap on the dap cause it's wide The X will provide all souls aside Who gets the past but if your sh** sounds trash You gotta go, I got a lot of soul, yo Old enough to know a real move from a brother Tell you who gets nuff or who's just pulling a brush Uptown stay the same, 2000 got the coochies Peace to Unique, mega Oreo got the lucci Bald heads run around, hey my man you got some stubble Rob G cut me low, let these cats know That when I chopped off my box, it opened up some next sh** I hold next slow to make the old age grew Then I kicked it up, next spice lights Shorty's doing his own thing, the man with the knife Check it out, yo, Sadat X and Diamond D with the '93 sh** You know the sh** is real (You can't front, Jack) Yo, you know the sh** is real (You can't front) Yo, you know the sh** is real (You can't front, Jack) Yo, you know the sh** is real (You can't front) [Diamond] Ayo I'm telling you now, it's the chubby kid from 125th street Chopping motherf**ers into pieces of mincemeat Back up boy, don't try to play me like a pipsqueak Don't even want to hear no words if your sh**'s weak Cause where I come from you might get done Like a steak on a seasame seed bun I got the mad flow, n***as drink they ha**le They contemplate my name and then they say "Shorty's bad" so Come on give me my props You can call it for your little sister or your moms and your pops Straight from the ghetto, and ?you the birds? Stunts that used to front get kicked to the curb With the quickness, I'm rhyming over the beats with the thickness So run to the store so you can get this And memorize the words so the next time you here it you can kick this Yeah, no time for faking, stay away from bacon I clock G's from the beats that I'm making n***as was sleeping, but now have awakened Ask the Boriquas, ask the Jamacians Who's the man in the hot seat? Giving n***as chills like Ralph in ?Hot Sea? I'm sending n***as back to bed Like an overdose of Actifed It's just a taste of the '93 sh** Ayo, it ain't no secret Ayo, you know the sh** is real (You can't front, Jack) Yo, you know the sh** is real (You can't front) Hey, you know the sh** is real (You can't front, Jack) Yo, you know the sh** is real (You can't front) [Lord Finesse] Check it, it ain't nothing you can gain from it (It's the Funky Man) And ain't a damn thing changed, money I lounge on the downlow MC's be fronting like they funky but theu can't f** around though n***as I spare none, I never shoot a fair one And I write rhymes more than b**hes get their hair done My sh**'s bu*ter, word to mother Rhyme with the mic in one hand and hold my dick with the other (Finesse is the man) Yeah, how'd you know? Cause my style of flow is smoother than Al Jarreu I'm no joke with the fast or small raps Me and Diamond go back like mocknecks and overlaps So by now you gots to figure I'm not the best motherf**er but I'm better than a lot of n***as And in a battle you can pick the winner The way I drop heavy sh** you'd think I ate grits for dinner You want to bet? Then call your bookie Cause I'm breaking n***as up like motherf**ing fortune cookies Check it out while I play post And say peace on out, I'll catch you folks on a later note (Diamond gives shoutouts to fade)