Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Reality, artist - Nipsey Hussle. Date of issue: 20.04.2009
Song language: English
Reality |
| The realest shit of a nigga life man |
| So gutter around here, ya dig? |
| When you gotta get it man |
| This rap shit be havin' niggas goin' every which way man |
| Confused ass niggas |
| They say rapping is good living huh? |
| You feel like when you get it, you gotta get it huh? |
| A lot of people think it’s easy homie not at all |
| It make the same nigga feel like he ain’t got ‘em all |
| And when you stop poppin' off its like Tylenol |
| Until your single play out and you start dying off |
| Two choices, you either ride it ‘til the tires off |
| Or switch it up and start singin' like Diana Ross |
| I’m still a nigga in the trap, so who am I to talk? |
| I just zone out and produce it, play the piano soft |
| Niggas don’t buy records, they try to make our asses soft |
| Off some pop shit, ‘cause Rap City in the basement off |
| This hip hop shit, done slowed down since it taken off |
| And you can sit and complain, but it won’t get you far |
| And you can pitch a hissy fit, curse and flip them off |
| Because to them, you the only, they depict you all |
| It’s fucked up nigga |
| Never promise what you can’t keep |
| ‘Cause every day’s a constant struggle, struggle |
| When faced with reality, reality |
| Never promise what you can’t keep |
| ‘Cause every day’s a constant struggle, struggle |
| When faced with reality, reality |
| Look, they got me feelin' like |
| Fuck the world, ‘cause we livin' in hell |
| Got me, pawning my chain, just to get him his bail |
| Yeah my brother, that’s my nigga, I’m supposed to be with you |
| Closest thing I ever had, to a fatherly figure |
| When my momma shook my pops, said he was a bullshitter |
| It was just me and my brother, look my brothers my nigga |
| So, you know I got yo back like yo spine |
| And I’m yet to see another nigga ever match your grind |
| Nigga, twenty four seven, twilight to sunrise |
| It was nothin they could tell us, it was money on our minds |
| It was triple Cuban links, all at the same time |
| It was bullet proof windows on them 745's, nigga |
| You know the games got its lows and its highs in it |
| You know them people keep they nose up my business |
| Is it a crime for a nigga to see the skies the limit |
| Reachin' for the stars will have you reachin' through the bars |
| It’s a trap |
| Show me a stage and I rhyme a page |
| Rap, sing choruses performin' for the audience |
| They applauding, and record labels exploitin' |
| Tellin' stories of pain and then recordin' them |
| How they selling our slang and now they talkin' shit? |
| Wish I could give them my shoes and tell them walk in this |
| Thugs singin' the blues, and now they fortunate |
| Make them mad, flossin' shit they thought we’d never have |
| Ghetto niggas pullin' up in somethin' elegant |
| I guess if it’s one man’s trash, others will treasure it |
| So that settles it, metals spit, quick to be devil for the benefit |
| Only if I’m gettin' rich |
| It’s like a cycle these tracks that I’m blessin' |
| Is mirrors to my pain, so I’m rappin' my reflection |
| Livin' in the rain, got me blackin' out, I’m stressin' |
| It’s like I’m relivin' my vision, I’m repeatin' my life |
| My words fight back in punch lines disrespectful |
| But I’d rather have my voice box the instrumental |
| I got a one track mind, puttin' lines together |
| And get some glow before I go, I can’t shine forever, nope |