Can This Be Real Lyrics - At Your Own Risk - King Tee

Yo, what's up? 

King Tee's in the muthafuckin' house 

Got my homeboy Young Floyd in the house 

J-Ro's in the house 

But yo 

Now here's somethin' everybody can relate to 

I know you hate to, but I feel great to 

Be the man to shake you, awake you and make you 

Stop sleepin' and I do what it takes to 

Bring a screechin' halt to the snoozin' 

First listen to the jam before you start choosin' 

And refusin', sayin' you can't hack it 

You never even bothered to take it out the jacket 

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Put it on the turntable, have a listen 

Then if it's wack, start dissin' 

Now I understand why you're dissin' my cut 

So I spit in my foot and stick my fist up your butt 

'Cause you have no business, really in this 

And I have no time for that diss-diss 

I shoot a rhyme at you like I'm shootin' to kill 

And you can do is ask yourself 

(Can this be real?) 

Now this song, I dedicate it to the sleepers 

Nothing real hard, just a little teaser 

For those, who told those, that the King Tee was done with 

No, not quite, yo, pooh pump it 

Suckers don't front, I know it's me you admire 

I take your girl, set her soul on fire 

I use the mic like a gun and my rhymes like ammo 

I go Tyson while others go Rambo 

Photos 

Pooh puts are warned, break north while you can, bub 

Give up rappin', join my fanclub 

I'm the rap reverend, hip-hop evangelist 

Yo, I can handle this, pass me the cannabis 

Pro rap artist and my rhymes are kinda raunchy 

Start with somethin' smooth, end with somethin' punchy 

See, I can rock, funk, rock, reggae or salsa 

Heavy metal or some soul, disco at the casa 

Just to the point of a vinyl convention 

Tee does the rappin', E does the mixin' 

So if you're still sleepin', yo, that's ill 

But when you're awake, what's your question? 

(Tell me, can this be real) 

Let me see if I can bust this one off 

Right here, one take 

As I resume with my rhymes, or should I say continue 

You got the nerve to try to pretend you 

Don't like what I'm doin' or sayin' so far 

But usually when I'm done you're satisfied, of course 

I don't front or fake, don't base or sniff 

Don't rob or steal or shoot dice and pimp 

'Cause I love to hang out with my posse and chill 

You might think I'm a thug, so think what you will 

I got a girl with a curl and a hommie named Sonny 

Never smoked crack 'cause the shit smelled funny 

King Tee, my alter ego, there's not to be a sequel 

Suckers try to diss me when I entertain the people 

Hey, I'm a murderer, your girl, I'm servin' her 

You feel like beefin', hah, the nerve of ya 

I hit you so hard, it make your mother feel dizzy 

Back up, punk, the King came to get busy 

(Tell me, can this be real)