R/X - R10 (The Realist Left)

Hood full of trauma
I put that on my momma
We thought things
Would change when we
Elected Obama
Lamborghini dream while I
Was pushing the Honda
My family still poor
I don't need no reminder
Don't call me bout no drama
Only bout a comma and I don't
Feel safe in my hood
Without the lama
Yea this shit deep, look
Summer time in the D
How a nigga like me
End up on crime in the D
In this rap shit timing is key
Got me feeling
Like the man with
All this designer on me
But we done felt
All the pain
Which left a stain niggas shot
At my car man
It could've hit my brain
I told my niggas
Load them choppa
We bout to take aim
But what would that solve
If I trying to promote change
We got enough niggas
In the system
R.I.P my brother
Swear to God that I miss him
I told him
Get his rest
Shed a tear and then
I kissed him
But if I really love you
We can work out of issues
But do you really
Rock with me cuz
I'm beneficial
Don't get it twisted
I alway been official
These the type of rhymes
That make you grab a tissue
And tell your family
That you really love 'em
And you miss 'em
Yea you know it's like
The real is really gone
Fake still here
I'm praying to up God
That I make it next year
Yea you know it like
The real is really gone
Fake is still here
I'm praying up to God
That I make it next year
Cuz Ive seen some thing that
I rather not speak about
Life is to short
You better speak it out
I call my pops about my shooting
He was freaking out
Looking down at my leg
Hope it ain't leaking out
Different lane different route
My rhymes got a different cloud
I've done fell out with some people
I rather not speak about
I tell my family
I love them every time
I'm leaving out
Cuz them holidays
They don't feel the
Same no more
And that liquor and weed
It don't heal the pain no more
Me and cuz we was walking
Through the same old door
In the latest fashion
Copping from the same old store
We wasn't rich we wasn't poor
We was just some young niggas
That really wanted more
This mental health shit
Man it like a war
I rather get an assist
To see my niggas score fareal
Yea you know
It's like
The real is really gone fake
Still here
I'm praying up to God
That I make it next year
Yea you know
It's like
The real is really gone fake
Still here
I'm praying up to God
That I make it next year

Written by:
Mario Davis

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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