Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Reality, artist - OFB. Date of issue: 27.12.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Reality |
| If you don’t drill the replica good |
| The bullet won’t leave and pop |
| ZCBeats |
| More time just swing where the heart is |
| Yo, let me get my hands on Lil Jojo |
| Push my Rambz straight through them glasses |
| In the T, wooden floor, no carpet |
| I’ve been there for time, ain’t clean my armpits |
| Pedal bike on the strip, man’s grafting |
| Man just lean out the ride, start barking (Bow!) |
| OFB’s got too much skengs (Bow!) |
| And we circle round on the opp block |
| Don’t bring phones, just waps instead (We don’t) |
| We ain’t leaving angles bent |
| Too many back doors popped on them |
| Trip up, drop, oh damn, you’re stressed |
| Free Ingz, free Bradz, OYY keeps taking my friends |
| How many man been splashed and shot? |
| We done a drill, laid low from cops |
| See my hunting knife gon' rip through tops (Rip) |
| The PR got wrapped in socks |
| And I’m in a next ends, that’s kway, that’s posh |
| The skeng’s real safe, it’s calm, it’s locked (Locked) |
| And when I rise it, it’s gon' beat like thots |
| It’s gon' beat like thots |
| What’s so hard to go step for your G’s? |
| Me, I will just step and squeeze |
| Did you hear that shotgun sneeze? |
| I think the corn woke her out of her sleep |
| Blame Kermit, he just blammed a neek |
| Talk is cheap, what happened that week? |
| Gang got two but it should have been three |
| Me and Claps in a German doing top speed |
| Right now we need two bad Bs |
| That’s not Cookie, that’s Cali weed |
| Move from here with them tired trees |
| Catch me on the glide in a bruck down Jeep |
| Me, Lil T, MadMax and Creeps (Gang) |
| Opp pulled up late at night and went screen |
| I ain’t heard nothing but the tyres screech (Skrr) |
| Circle the Woods with the spinner on me |
| This kid is a violent G |
| Toured over there with guns back seat |
| Rude boy drop and your feeling this heat |
| Slap this wap, that’s A&E |
| Barbies run and hold up your weave |
| Pull up on yute and dump out three |
| Hella man run, they push and scream |
| And man can’t-man can’t be onto me |
| Cah I’ll run up on your block with Rambo out |
| Tryna fish down one of your G’s (Ching) |
| These guys can’t talk on the team |
| Too many man got chased by me (Runners) |
| Bore you up and the blade I keep (Keep it) |
| And I had shh running from me |
| I’m not gonna lie, I gave him three (I bored him) |
| And man know I’m holding my shank |
| How many times have I unclipped my Rambz? |
| And we had them hiding in blocks |
| It’s straight up ments if you buck this gang (Mothers) |
| Dot-dots slap, just watch it spread |
| Again and again, suttin’s gonna get whacked (Bow!) |
| God knows why they don’t ride back |
| They keep it a mystery, dumb little (Fuck) |
| Don’t slip with your bae and start running away (Don't run) |
| And leave her like Turna |
| Lil Jojo got himself bored up |
| And he’s beefing the O and he still ain’t turned up |
| They got bro-bro on the wing and they caging him in |
| Want him locked like Shmurda |
| But there’s only a matter of time |
| Then broski’s home and that day we turn up |
| But lets give the opps some clout |
| For the way that they run their mouth (Run) |
| They ain’t scored no points on the O |
| But it come like the O be the talk of the town (Why they talking?) |
| Where I’m from, there’s a load of waps |
| But where my opps from, there’s a load of clowns |
| Bad B on man from kway |
| She don’t get no love, only gets one round (One round) |
| Shotty come long like Grace |
| Way to your boy too fucking bait |
| Claps got his suttin' in the rave |
| But true say, true say I’m good anyway |
| Cah I got two Rambo’s on my waist |
| She got a back and a pretty little face |
| She’s like Kay when we going on a date |
| I’m in a bando babe, got grub on the plate |
| Skattz like freeze, a well-known booter |
| He’s known for rising the hoover |
| You don’t wanna get seen in the late night |
| Bro set pace, got blood on his Puma (Splash) |
| You can hold corn for throwing them twos up |
| Free V jugg on the wing with tuna |
| Feds want shh for bootings |
| But I swear down bro’s too clued up |
| Mind where you step |
| OFB’s are the ones that kweff |
| I done been in the field for a sec |
| And I’ve ran man down 'til I run out of breath (Run him down) |
| See my blade gonna rip through flesh |
| Bleach my blade, don’t leave no mess (No mess) |
| And that leaves no stress |
| That’s back to the Trizz, tryna see more bread (More bread) |
| ZCBeats |