Lyrics Truth Hurts - El Gant, Torae, Dj Devastate

Truth Hurts

I’m from the Eva, the champion hoodie, signature game cap
It’s kinda sickening when you see where the game’s at
Some niggas started out nice couldn’t remain that
Cause the chase stacks got you thinkin', it’s the same cat?
Strange act what they do for the loot
You’re abandoned with your standards, only glamour pursuit
Chasing papers catching Vapors Biz Markie and Snoop
This lil' that and young that, Mr. Record in you
I’m expectin' the truth when niggas step in the booth
When they call me a throwback, rapping the proof
Flabbergasted faggot asses when they catch the cool
Dizzle express, this what I do why I do
(Hook#1: DJ Devastate)
I’m in the name in the game put your gloves on
We’re here live to teach you how to rhyme
Laying you down you should start praying
Now back out the game
Don’t put your gloves on
Rap now is a Circus of Clowns
Bring you to live
(El Gant Verse#1)
I was raised in the jacket era back in time and place
It was suitable to punch a whack rapper in the face
The stage and the rhythm and the bass tossed him in the fans
KRS P Diddy brought a helicopter of the bodies on the stands
Another kid got ripped apart
Let my little verse with a megaphone like Jimmy Hart
Spittin' darts
Cutting off late battles
Stick in the Industry and let everyone lay flat
Push your EP like an A-Trak
Taking back
Cashing in to make my paybacks
State facts
All these cats make shifts
Get up these motherfuckers and get 'em a rape kit
Ate shit
The game used to be chronic detained
I used to wanna fuck and have a face slip
Half wasted
I started in the gutter I made it out Hip-Hops sleeping in your Mother’s
basement
(Hook#2)
(Toare Verse #2)
Basically blessing brought in a profession session
Raiders second guessing into the essence
This is the condolences collections connected
To a graffiti to beat boy scratching on a record
The rapping of the record the traditions remains
At least KRS knows what we are basically saying, uh
(El Gant Verse #2)
I’m not playing with a kid without a friend
Business is getting a little bit calling Aerosmith
Every minute I’m watching pretending I’m a thespian
The music lost it’s forms, gotta run 'em like a lesbian
With the mess we’re in
Nobody wants to clean up
Skinny individuals, nobody wants to team up
Workin' out, spot with boss to the lean cut
Spit dope for your fucking cripple beans up
(Hook)