Real Game - SHAD

Oh it’s on

You just did it now

«Here's the tip off» okay, okay

Oh, tip

Oh, check it out

I got the passes, I got the shots

I got it all, baby

(Let's talk about the greats, yeah)

{Larry bird couldn’t fly, but he never went stale

Cause he could pass to Danny Ainge or Kevin McHale

And they rarely failed to bury the basket

Bob Cousy could pass it too, very fantastic players

With sick game but not insane

The only pistol Pete Maravich had was in his nickname

And it’s a shame that the dummies on our block

Would rather bunny hop than listen to Red Auerbach

There they go again, whenever I’m talking ball

With a white friend, he gotta pipe in

Talking 'bout, «I miss how they used to play in Cousy’s day,»

{Well, at least they could shoot a J

Well, ok, now, Larry Bird had a fine career

Full of jackin' ugly J’s from behind his ear

Even had some militant brothers inclined to cheer

From '79 and up until his final year

But McHale was dirty, frail and nerdy

You can’t even rate him on the same scale with Worthy

Put that talk in your dreams.

McHale fought with Kareem

Cause Kevin sharpened his elbows and popped in the screens

Yeah, he popped his elbows and caused a swelled nose or two

But it’s true didn’t shoplift shell toes

Ask Chris Weber how he went and got his swell clothes in college}

From his economics knowledge?

Hell no

Velcro couldn’t stick closer to John Stockton

In the defensive pose.

I got the poster

And no, he didn’t have Malone’s chest and pipes

He was the brains like Harrelson with Wesley Snipes}

So, you say Stock’s got the most brains

But that’s just cause he’s slow with no game, and vericose veins

Fo sho tho', now some of y’all are so so

But the last white boy I seen with a ring was Frodo

Well, Michael’s got six, and Russell’s got eleven

All Stock has is daisy dukes and he’s a legend

To every Nazi clown in a WASPy town

Still playing in shorts shorter than Foxy Brown

You can talk about the shorts and even the jerseys

But you know you got to pass it to a whitey for a sure three (true)

Without John Paxson, or Steve Kerr

You never would-a seen a Bulls three-peat t-shirt

And leave your Nazi talk at the station

Craig Hodges taught his kid to hate caucasians

Got a strong case and you can’t deny it

Just look at the kids face in the Pacers riot

Yeah, yeah, okay I was appalled myself

But it’s not like David Stern or Bill Walton helped

And there’s no denying Steve Kerr could shoot the long three

But dude, c’mon B, Perdue and Longley?

Check the figures: Payton strips, tends to dishin' the rock

And Big Ben Wallace was always sick with the swats

{Well, you always had a point, but now’s not the time

To be bringing up the numbers when you dropped your rhymes

If you calculate the leaders, at the top you’ll find

It’s Kirilenko and Nash first, in blocks and dimes

Plus, it’s Stock, not Payton first in all-time steals

Maybe your boys’re too busy keepin' it real

(can't argue with that)

Oh dirty

There’s stuff goin on, you don’t even understand, man

Check it

Now, the man’s got some plans, y’all.

I’m statin' the facts

First the military’s gonna say it’s a draft

But that’s just so they can send LeBron James to Iraq

Then they’ll lock up Abdul Rahim with the Patriot Act

See it was their game, now they plan on taking it back

And see all the Barry brothers go straight to the rack

Plus the refs always help the farm boys from the back woods

C’mon.

Y’all didn’t think that Nash was that good?

(I did.)

Now, officials take illegal funds to hide the stats

So, the zebras always got more white stripes then black

More White Stripes than Jack and Meg

Like, ever wonder why Stock still passed to Greg

When the ball would just smack his hand

Questions and actions have to beg

Stakes is high like De La?

at the keg?

First it was one sixteenth black and that’s what your race is

Now, they wanna change it to claim J. Kidd

That’s clear divide and conquer, y’all so stay smart

Mike Bibby, Rick Fox and K-Mart stay dark, brothers

«raises up!»

{Shad, you’re wasting you brains, no one’s taking your claims

Quit rapping and grab your kicks, man;

we’re late for the game

See he’s the type of guy who has the stats remembered

Like how many assists Nash had last December}

And I’m the type who ain’t that strong with the pill

But still braggin with dominant skill with karma and will

{Now Shad, I feel drained

So spit your real game}

Here’s one in your eye

«You'll feel pain»

Whoo!

Yeah, your mother can’t dunk

My mom can dunk, okay?

My mom can dunk.

She used to be able to dunk.

She can touch the rim still

Oh no!

Oh!