Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Real, artist - Rylo Rodriguez. Date of issue: 26.11.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Real |
| Wishin' I could erase what we’ve been through |
| Wish that I could erase me hurtin' you |
| Wish me fuckin' these hoes made me forget you (Damn, Kai you goin' crazy) |
| Wishin' I’d get us all out the ghetto |
| These rap niggas can’t see me thought they my sons, yeah, I’m a deadbeat |
| Pretty lil' thing, tried to scoop her, got mess the bed sheets |
| Toronto vibe, she don’t care if I don’t put my dick in 'cause she a head freak |
| She go bed with the dick in her mouth, call her sleepy head, she had the best |
| sleep |
| Studio with all the lights off |
| I’m the same nigga when the mic off |
| Same nigga wanna take the lights off |
| I know that Trump still in the white house |
| I’m hood dreamin', codeine in my bloodstream had me aggravated |
| I lost a lot of friends, when they die, tell my mama bury me with a navigation |
| (I'ma find them) |
| On the road to riches, I jumped off the exit for some niggas I love |
| I almost OD’d off them Xans, I was thinking 'bout killin' myself |
| Made a bond with another nigga bitch even though it was time to bail (It was |
| time to bail) |
| It when I take money down to the county jail (Yeah) |
| Wanna go overseas, I ain’t no felon |
| You still a rat if you thought 'bout tellin' |
| Twenty-two K let’s walk by (Yeah) |
| Percocet and the Addy (Yeah) |
| Misery loves company, my old ho sent the addy (Do that) |
| Crushed diamond emeralds on me, I don’t know how it happened |
| Drop a car but you can’t post it, 'cause you don’t wanna get caught lackin' |
| They told me money would fix everything (They lied) |
| I dropped some tears on a hundred grand (I cried) |
| So you sayin' I’m supposed to stack this paper up, just for you to fuck it up, |
| for you to say I’m real? |
| I really do not care 'bout RP’s or roxies |
| I just pray lil jojo get appeal (Woah, woah, woah) |
| I know lot of niggas wasn’t really with me, I seen they crooked smiles |
| But this love for 'em, I wanted to give 'em veneers |
| I hold my money, gotta ear, you just had a year, so what you crying 'bout? |
| They ain’t want me to spike the ball, I bought two Rollies and now I got time |
| out |
| Fuck me up, I couldn’t help Dave, I seen him on the curb dying now |
| Wishin' I could erase what we’ve been through |
| Wish that I could erase me hurtin' you |
| Wish me fuckin' these hoes made me forget you |
| Wishin' I’d get us all out the ghetto |
| These rap niggas can’t see me thought they my sons, yeah, I’m a deadbeat |
| Pretty lil' thing, tried to scoop her, got mess the bed sheets |
| Toronto vibe, she don’t care if I don’t put my dick in 'cause she a head freak |
| She go bed with the dick in her mouth, call her sleepy head, she had the best |
| sleep |
| Seven days in the trap, he don’t want me to say it, he was goin' crazy |
| I know a Blood who scam, he don’t wanna leave the bank, he be goin' brazy |
| Said he 'bout to see me on the Gram, hol' up |
| He must not rap no more, it’s bigger than that, trust me |
| My spine hurts, 'cause I gave back so much, my knee crutched |
| Niggas attend, I watch with an axe, no way my time get cutted |
| Digital scales, once your ten is a nine, you’ll die end up in custody |
| Think 'bout the Rolls Royce, we used to walk for hours (We talking 'bout that) |
| Now we quit the job and we pray we get off first |
| I’m real life rapping 'bout money even though I went got me some |
| Lot of these niggas OG’s rats in the city we from |
| Twenty-one pairs of Diors, I buy 'em like they Dions |
| I know a gangsta who went to jail and got treated like a peon |
| Writin' free my niggas on my banner, I’m in Off-White coats |
| I know a trapper, he won’t never buy designer, he got off-white coke |
| She want me to cuff her, made her fuck my brother, beat her to it, |
| she couldn’t even clap it on me |
| Got a FaceTime with James Harden, he motivate me to always keep a rocket on me |
| I’m workin' hard, don’t want vacation, my niggas died on home invasions |
| Got a pistol with me on probation, hours no visitations |
| I’m grown, I’m still a project baby |
| Free lunch at the recreation, yeah |
| Sorry grandma I ain’t graduate, who the hell cares |
| I know niggas who got diplomas sittin' in jail cells |
| Cartier, eight hundred for a pair, I broke three of 'em in a year span |
| Now they book me, I came a long way from standin' in line waitin' on a wrist |
| band |
| Wishin' I could erase what we’ve been through |
| Wish that I could erase me hurtin' you |
| Wish me fuckin' these hoes made me forget you |
| Wishin' I’d get us all out the ghetto |
| These rap niggas can’t see me thought they my sons, yeah, I’m a deadbeat |
| Pretty lil' thing, tried to scoop her, got mess the bed sheets |
| Toronto vibe, she don’t care if I don’t put my dick in 'cause she a head freak |
| She go bed with the dick in her mouth, call her sleepy head, she had the best |
| sleep |