[Verse 1: King-ISO]: It never occurred to me how sick I am It's only real, folks, if it's not planned Like think, what if my strap did not jam? I fed so many people that have bit my hand Try to kick these habits, homie, for this hip-hop, man Feel like Tim Roth and Pac in Gridlock'd, man Cats out here will try to leave me dead Just to jack my plug and try to get my fans So, Fuck luck, young blood Like I was hit by chance Gun tucked, won't buck with a bitch, like "Damn!" I was homeless, no chips, no whips, like "Man!" But I kept down bitches that'll kiss my hand Took a chick clean record, put this gun charge on it Niggas all on my dick, like they jump off on it Best friend turnin' enemies, and watch me make it Now I'm looking at them like "this what the fuck y'all wanted?" Put the other side on, didn't charge a price Your game I lost, thats a bargain right? Nigga told me don't cross him, but he crossed me twice How I see it is hes lucky he ain't lost his life We still bump heads on some awkward nights It's a small ass world, so we're all disciples Can't trust no nigga when you large as life Nigga better slow down like a caution light I'm a gangsta, nigga, What the fuck y'all mean? Came a long way from the psycho days Whoever saw that movie and didn't call me crazy I'm watching that shit, like there my life go bae My brain be hella sick, I'm going crazy, nigga I be thinkin' about the psych ward lately, nigga But I finally got a real chance to make it, nigga That's why I called Insane and said "Thanks, my nigga" That's real
[Twisted Insane]: And that's real You know it's gonna be a lot of motherfuckers that try to come in Snakes in the grass out there, homie And they gon' try to stir shit up You know what I mean? But it's you It all starts with you, homie What do you wanna do? Who do you wanna be? Now once you figure out that It's all over [?] (Yeah) And that's real
[Verse 2: King-ISO]: I ain't have shit, nigga, but the flows I lay One basket of clothes, scuffs on my J's Poppin' pills and I would smoke all day Drinkin' liquor, call the hoes my way I can't believe a nigga dome got straight Fake love got thrown my way My idols real life became my homies Just imagine all the hope I gained I'm thinking to myself, "Why I puff my weed?" I'm high, I get low when I fuck my freaks I wake up in the morning and I brush my teeth These niggas in the game hood, just like me And to think a nigga used to be on cut-throat shit I ain't talking about spades, I mean gunsmoke shit Now I get racks on plays when I compose shit Them mothafuckas' can't wait until I upload shit Success to my enemies is bitter-sweet Speaking of, I need to hit this weed I remember when I was in Atlanta Spillin' cheap ass wine on Bentley seats Niggas back home, they was mad as fuck It was just an image, now it's addin' up I wasn't celebratin' like "Nigga, start" I was just content without havin' none Back in traffic, still packin' guns Once you have a son, you quit actin' dumb From a cell to homeless Now havin' funds Now I'm puttin' on, here the badges come My brain be hella sick, I'm going crazy, nigga I've been thinkin' about the psych ward lately, nigga But I got a real chance just to make it, nigga That's why I called Insane and said "Thanks, my nigga" That's real
[Twisted Insane]: You know, they say music without the Brain is soulless I remember when I was hopeless You know, it's funny that I'm on the fuckin' [?] I make what I really pawn, nigga All my idols, All the mothafuckin' tanks I listened to when I was a kid coming up All of them I've done songs with them Ain't that shit crazy, man? And that's real Yeah, like the mothafucka was just handlin' shit, homie No serious bullshit, nigga It's been a long road 'Ya know? Now it's your road Now it's your time It's on you...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
