Realization Lyrics

You ever had a M4 strapped to your fucking back

Going to the range not knowing if you coming

This is not a game so why you playing like a running back

Nigga you ain’t broke give me my fucking quater back

I’m ready for the fade aye nigga where is crowder at

Nothing that was real just knives in my upper back

I be too cold ice sickles but I really stab

Only one nigga on the beat I don’t need collabs

Lemme get it right

Before I go and take another muthafucking flight

Back home

Cuz I am the back bone

Of the relationship

At least I used to be

Now I’m the sinking ship

Guess that’s the old me

Well no shit

I guess you can see that I am struggling

Not getting enough time to heal

I am mumbling

At this point it’s common knowledge I’m stumbling

Haptic feedback without the ruumbling

All these monogamous bitches they kill

Put em in shackles so suffering still

I’m Hearing the rattle

Of the fatherless babies

I’m wearing these watches black driving Mercedes

2019 and we not claiming ladies

They mad about a bitch named Tracey

Alright Im done just lemme grab my Stacy

Adams

Threw em out the window like blow

You ever had a M4 strapped to your fucking back

Going to the range not knowing if you coming

This is not a game so why you playing like a running back

Nigga you ain’t broke give me my fucking quater back

I’m ready for the fade aye nigga where is crowder at

Nothing that was real just knives in my upper back

I be too cold ice sickles but I really stab

Only one nigga on the beat I don’t need collabs

How bout I hit you in the face with a closed staple

Open safe code

Bout to I read you’re Nursery rhymes Lemme hold Franco

Pussy nigga wanna pull up smack em in the back of the neck like a sharknado

Sci-fi Lay that bitch out body shaking like a stripper on that mutha fucking table

You wanna talk about past could’ve should’ve would’ve she was mine from muthafucking get go

Yet tho

I got a CAMO gecko

Sell on let go

Run that check tho

Like neff the pharo

Pressing all yah buttons till you die no respawn

Enclosed fable

Pulling out the moves like I’m chris Jericho

What I be thinking about so damn hysterical

What’s going on through my mind you shouldn’t marry so

You ever had a M4 strapped to your fucking back

Going to the range not knowing if you coming

This is not a game so why you playing like a running back

Nigga you ain’t broke give me my fucking quater back

I’m ready for the fade aye nigga where is crowder at

Nothing that was real just knives in my upper back

I be too cold ice sickles but I really stab

Only one nigga on the beat I don’t need collabs