Real One

Preach from the podium, but no Pentecostal
Rather weep in the morning when the feeling is hostile
Can't keep on parading in the shoes from the Costco
I know, now its time for the favor for Rosco

C'mon son, know the deal, when the shit get real
Imma need you up front if the rat might squeal
Remember keep both hands, both hands on the wheel

(Once more)
Both hands both hands on the steel
(I got it)

Eyes never leaving the road
Imma need you in the focus if I'm losing control
Don't try to calm me down, just circle back around
And drop me off at the bridge never makin a sound

Cool chief, think I got it steady straight in my mind
The only question is I'm really having trouble remind
What the reason we decided to go this far

(Oh you a fake now)

Nah, I'm still hard
Cause you know you been my brother since 2016
When they put a couple bullets from they M16
In the plain white tee, of my girlfriend, B

(Aye you good)

I'm just choking on the bomb ass tree
Never mind got a mission to do
And if I'm slippin I'm screwed
I gotta finish what I started, in the middle pursuit
I stay cool everything go smooth
I can buy another record, 'fore the rent that's due

And so I dropped cuh off, at the spot real soft
Circle back to the corner where the shells popped off
Everything wasn't gonna have to be this hard
But they wasn't at the meeting they was with they guards
And that's where the memory is black and white
And the pics slow down as I drop the mic
And I wasn't quite sure what happened next
And If I was, I wouldn't say it, its about respect

(Skit)

I didn't need another conviction, I believed I was something of a carnally christian
Rather teach to the player who refuses to listen
Then be slave to a system that was making me different UH
Separating who I am from everybody who was me we should be fam
Because I hated being cornered to a quest or a dream
Made a lane for every lame who every grew on the street and thought
Something here just ain't right
I'mma do it all over, my shit, my life
Mama ain't gon be hurting for the funds no more
And my daddy ain't working till his joints get sore
Let me take what's mine from the pockets of the rich
If it means I die, I accept that, bitch
I'mma do it in strides, cause I'm tired of lies
Perpetuating what they seein with they own two eyes

And I be looking like shit steady workin and shit
While the fat cat pricks break another dish
And if I can't change that, then I will change this
If the pen don't match, then I'll use my fist
Matter fact, here's a stat, CNN suck this