Realm Reality – Immoral Ventilation Lyrics

PYONG!
0

You pyonged “Realm Reality – Immoral Ventilation”

Save Note No Thanks
Follow
Caution: You are now annotating this song as

[Hook: Realm Reality]
Blood, sweat, tears, bruises
Developing habits of never losing
Guns, bang, shirts, stain
Infamous to the death, we die for this music

[Verse 1: Realm Reality]
I'm bad as ever when they cash the bread up
Practice makes better when I smash your head up
These turtles clash will shred up
I got an axe to switch a liver
Kitchen knife to sever
Better safe than ever
Having weapons when they try and catch up
My mama raised me with a harsh tone, see a cross clones
Deeper science achieving to re-import chrome
Bushwick life, all I saw was my reality
To be an old man and survive was the mentality
Most with casualties, living wrong with the right type
To find out he was shot smoking loud on a quiet night
Running the hood like I'm living on Troutman
Any rapper trying to play cowboy, they scalp them
Infamous grind mode be the routine
Fool proof schemes adapt to enemies, a dream
God forgives, but he don't approve the situation
When the band hateful, disgraceful, the immoral ventilation

[Verse 2: Roc Marciano]
Check it, bend the Timbs on a dead end
I'm better in sin, Mac 10, 750 with the fin
The gun come with a twin, the rush with a touch of M
It's rough to men like a hustle to skin
Drunk the Hen and I was sucked in
The underworld's full of corrupt men
Mother's pearl on a thug's wrist
Write it potent
The Rover sees white like yogurt
My lines quoted, disquoted
Twist wishes, kiss boers, script poems
Silked out with the cryst loafers
Still play the park, sparked
We danced underneath the tarp
Then it got dark, the same play the heart
The large snake ate the heart
I create art and rock the Carhatt sharp
I'm a car shark, scars
Bust shots out of parked cars
Lit cigars, nigga, spit bars, Mars

[Hook]

[Verse 3: AG Da Coroner]
I've seen a man get on his knees and cry tears of blood
First born in a casket, laying down in the mud
The product of his environment, a murderer or a shooter
Niggas start going crazy when they fucking with the Buddha
Stood in front of a judge, had the book thrown at him
Sentenced to ten joints, now the wolves gone grab him
He used to run the streets with me, bunkbed sleep with me
Rob the bodega and dipping from the police with me
No appetite is stronger than that of the concrete
I can tell you how it feels to find bullets where mom sleeps
Bumping that old Mobb Deep, living that Brooklyn life
Some niggas took a flight, surroundings weren't looking right
Older than I look, five borough representation
Run reality coroner, immoral ventilation
We live by a code that wasn't written in the Bible
The look in my eyes is half peacemaker, half homocidal

[Verse 4: Termanology]
My niggas ain't satisfied until we spending checks
Our Twitters ain't verified, but we could care less
Cause we be sipping Beck's in my clique of mess
ST infamous, show off your techs
I glow of my rep with my lost connects
I sex Harvard chicks that hardly make some Molly
Tripping poly with the obvious, anonymous Madonna
Miss America look alike, she turning off the lights
You can find me in the back with a pound of dust
In the grind we trust, by any means we counting bucks
You funny rappers is jelly my clique is rich already
Shot out machete, he knocked the nigga out that was petty
I'm on my block with a heavy coke of bag and I'm ready
To serve any cuddy for money, I'm wrapping this feddy
Hollered at Rick, he told me we was running the game
Plus we was running the train, told him we one and the same

[Hook]

Edit song description to add:

  • Historical context: what album the song's on, how popular it was
  • An explanation of the song's overall story (example: "In this song, Eminem corresponds with a crazed fan who ends up...")
  • The sample used for the beat — use WhoSampled.com and wikipedia as references
Song lyrics have been changed by someone else. Copy your work to your clipboard and click here to reload.