Recognize n Realize - Cella Dwellas

What’s

The deal?

Yo, the real is in front of your eyes

«Recognize and realize, kid, don’t fantasize».

How

You feel?

Son, chill.

You’re dealing with real guys

«Recognize and realize, kid, don’t fantasize»

U.G., let me

Set this, microphone-check this, and bless this

And reminisce: Sour Patch and five-cent Fish and

Fast food.

I’ll blast dude if he wants static

Straight to the attic for the automatic

From high school, learned the golden rule: to pack tools

And wear jewels and not be played for the fool

Every week, brand-new kicks on my feet

‘Cause down the block, I sold more rocks than beat

Guess and Lo from head to toe.

Can’t forget

My Cherry Jeep, then I got my G.E.D.

Mama

Chumps, flipping ‘cause I got left back, didn’t know

I had the skills for this record contract.

Now the

Whole damn block is trying to

Sound like me ‘cause I emcee

And stay flavor like lollipops and Charms

And blow up spots like napalm bombs in Vietnam

Yo, I hold

Heat like the beach sand on Baywatch and spray

Glocks like corrupt transit cops and keep a shot

Proof under my puffy North Face ‘goose

When I walk the deuce, sipping overproof, getting

Misty visions of getting stuck for my papes like

My name was Biggie—therefore, my trigger finger stays itchy

My index set to squeeze at my enemies

That’s jelly.

Keep clips on my side like a celly

U.G.

hot, handles biz, big boy.

I don’t be

Joking, grab the nine and come out smoking

Kids like The Mask, splash you if I have to, son

I’m a born killer—what?—and it’s natural

What’s

The deal?

Yo, the real is in front of your eyes

«Recognize and realize, kid, don’t fantasize».

How

You feel?

Son, chill.

You’re dealing with real guys

«Recognize and realize, kid, don’t fantasize»

For

The next couple lines, watch me get mines as

The shorty wop still tap the 40 top.

I got

Tired of the «freeze» from D.T.s and dropping

To my knees and praying to God, «Please»

I hope they don’t shoot me up.

These hillbilly cowboys

They boot me up, root and toot me up

I also got tired of the snitches.

I still got

Love for my niggas, the riches, the bitches

But no more crimes, drugs, and stick-ups

Now I’m in the rap game, hope my record sales pick up

Did a couple of shows, three videos

Fucked some new hoes, bought some new clothes

Ain’t nothing changed.

Still want ends, I still wanna

Chill with my friends, I still want the same black Benz

Until then, I’ll rock an '87 blazer

Sometimes, I still pack a razor that’ll phase ya

Not Fantasia.

Phantasm and U. G

Cella Dwellas from now to infinity

The fede-

-ration: cream, Cristal, and piss styles

And thick gals with thick brows, sticking individuals

For hundreds, nine in your stomach.

Jewels?

You run it

When I be clicking, pushing rides with no ignition

The bend pulley, crews get bullied by my team

The infrared dot, the lead beam, some get steamed

Or blazed by the six-shooters.

Whips and hooters

I’m dipping on scooters through the PJs.

These days

Is trife, everyday life is bugged, so my clique

Stack quick slugs for the MAC-1−1.

Crews

Get sonned or gunned down like an OS.

Wear

Armor on my chest to protect my flesh from

The young guns blasting «Just to Get a Rep» like

Guru.

Run up close-range with the two-two

Hit you with two and rip through your epidermis

Slugs hit your mug and burn like a furnace

What’s

The deal?

Yo, the real is in front of your eyes

«Recognize and realize, kid, don’t fantasize».

How

You feel?

Son, chill.

You’re dealing with real guys

«Recognize and realize, kid, don’t fantasize»

«Recognize and realize» — Sample from Phantasm on Cella Dwellas — «We Got It

Hemmed» (x3)

«Don't fantasize» — Sample from Phantasm on Cella Dwellas — «We Got It Hemmed»