The Real (F3)

[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
How my mom gone pay the bills when these jobs ain't hiring?
Metal keep firing, the hood's getting tiresome (x2)
Why the fuck you think I go so hard when I'm writing it?
Tryna feed the kids, the narcs striking us like lighting
My young boy 17 took a 20 to 40
By the time he do that 20, my youngin' be 40
Called me yesterday, told me he pleaded, they caught him
Couldn't beat it, co-defendants was telling our lawyer
I don't spit for the kids, spit it how it is
Why would I tell you something different? this is how I live
How I came up junkies shooting their brains up
Niggas letting them things bust all over the same stuff
Heard the nigga killed my dad still walk in these streets
So what the fuck you think gone happen he walk into me?
Walk into murder, Glock walking the 33
Cause when that nigga kill my pop it's like he murdered me
Upstate nightmares dreams of getting rich
Got me grinding like a fiend tryna get his fix
All they hustle for is clothes tryna to get a whip
These young boys think you good if you get it brick
Try to tell them niggas chill, chill don't pay the bills
But how you gone pay the bills if you got a will?
And how you gone feed your kids if you got a bid?
But I can't blame them its the same shit that I done did
Be the ones close to you wanna do the most to you
Blink your eye, turn around, nigga got the toast to you
On some Rico shit, my nigga's 21 and got the Rico hit
Niggas will kill their own homies on some Nino shit
For the love of the green and the American dream
For the love of the money seen hysterical things
Niggas will serve their own moms if she ask for a beam