BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
Real
- Fuck YOUR walled in spit dimensions
- To fit in I, gotta show fitteds, be slow witted
- Ballin for attention, Haulin shit I’m rentin
- Just so I’m able to have labels Callin for my benchin
- Got no fake claims in ink, no great chains in links
- No WEIGHT gains from drink, But I do take aim at inc’s
- Who put up puppets who dub shit for club bitch
- Who’s fame claim is “I’m a dream
- Who Obama seen as a foreign economy”
- I take shits with better sounds
- Fuck how YOUR berretta grounds, my vendetta hounds
- So I buck then tuck in, slam the door shut and
- Embed a clown under redder grounds
- Fuck that my mind is Aquinas
- During the dark ages
- Goal to mark pages that my heart glazes
- But with no ears to hear, its art wasted,
- I still hark rage this
- Is not how I want to illuminate, so I’ll spill booms ‘n bass
- Doom your fate cause all you talk is kill, shrooms, and hate
- I like to think saying what matters gets my pockets fatter
- Now in reality salary be the only mentality
- That POWERS be instillin in fake villians and sour gs
- While cowards see record SALES despite hecklor’s mail
- And directors veil what wreck whore feel
- For a rap vid that vexed, bored, failed
- Scan fads for the next sure trail
- So fat cats stack and don’t perplex more males
- And whack tracks avoid trash pails
- I could join em and talk how I hold my heat to moles in streets
- Wanna control the weak but still molded by tweaks
- Follow regs with hollow heads that grow old in weeks
- Should I do what I’m told to speak?
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