Graphic Reality by Sevin Lyrics
Yeah
I'm hopin and prayin right now that ya'll
Ya'll gon' get the message behind this you know?
Cause all too often do we move without thinkin'
You know I'm sayin'?
And it's usually our... loved ones
And the innocent that have to pay for our sins
You feel me?
Check this right here
I mean I'll be the first to admit it
It's graphic and it's hardcore
You know I'm sayin'
But
It's reality you know
It's time we started dealin' wit it
Check it
Uh, uh uh
Watchin the stars grow behind tints of a Monte Carlo
Fresh out the booth so I'm bellin' with a scarred throat
One time trippin'
I'm dippin' in the car slow
Semi automatic
40 cal in the car though
Just a few miles to my hood where they howl few
But my style's clue plus I move with a owls view
Most are oblivious to what Sac is about
Dayton's glowin' plus I'm knowin that the jackas is out
So I move my heat from the door to my lap
I love my girl but I'm enjoying my strap
Adjust my rearview watchin' much more than my back
In clear view I see em guardin' the hood
Like it's the border of Iraq
Just then my cell rings
I answer it with a bad feelin'
But I'm well prepared for what hell brings
My cousin three
He's talkin' quick like he's rushin' D
Sayin they ain't playin and they talkin' bout touchin' me
The All or None album done sold a few plastics
Now they wantin' taxes on my ghetto classics
What?
I ain't seen a royalty check
I've been grindin' out the trunk trying to avoid all these debts
I'm a G
It takes more to annoy me with threats
Pull over
Pop the trunk then I reach behind my boy for the tech
First nigga run up boy and be wet
6 feet beneath the soil he's kept
So now I'm movin'
Headlights flashin' behind me
What's he doin?
Without thinkin jack move it's the conclusion
Surreal like an illusion
I hop out tech pre-cocked to wet until the clip pop out
I pull my 40-Glock out
Aimin' at windshields
I start blastin'
The shells hittin' the ground in a synchronized fashion
Flame from both barrels is flashin'
Just like the OG showed me shoot first with no askin'
Broken glass
Paint chips around the bullet holes
I've never seen a car so fulla those
I tried to blink but my eyes wouldn't close
I just stood there froze
My brother leaning out the driver's side with his skull exposed
He had a look on his face that I could not explain
Same one I'm makin' while I'm shakin' on his shot up frame
I'm trippin' I ain't gotta ask if he's dead
With bare hands dog I'm scoopin' brains back in his head
Phone ringin' off the hook on my hip so I answer
My cousin' tellin' me
"Your brother wouldn't take the chance of
Lettin' them fake niggas gown you so he's on his way"
With tears streamin' down I calmly say
"He found me"
Oh dog what have I done?
Brother Jason... I'm so sorry
NO!
Flatline
I'm feelin' like we ain't leavin here
I'm hopin and prayin right now that ya'll
Ya'll gon' get the message behind this you know?
Cause all too often do we move without thinkin'
You know I'm sayin'?
And it's usually our... loved ones
And the innocent that have to pay for our sins
You feel me?
Check this right here
I mean I'll be the first to admit it
It's graphic and it's hardcore
You know I'm sayin'
But
It's reality you know
It's time we started dealin' wit it
Check it
Uh, uh uh
Watchin the stars grow behind tints of a Monte Carlo
Fresh out the booth so I'm bellin' with a scarred throat
One time trippin'
I'm dippin' in the car slow
Semi automatic
40 cal in the car though
Just a few miles to my hood where they howl few
But my style's clue plus I move with a owls view
Most are oblivious to what Sac is about
Dayton's glowin' plus I'm knowin that the jackas is out
So I move my heat from the door to my lap
I love my girl but I'm enjoying my strap
Adjust my rearview watchin' much more than my back
In clear view I see em guardin' the hood
Like it's the border of Iraq
Just then my cell rings
I answer it with a bad feelin'
But I'm well prepared for what hell brings
My cousin three
He's talkin' quick like he's rushin' D
Sayin they ain't playin and they talkin' bout touchin' me
The All or None album done sold a few plastics
Now they wantin' taxes on my ghetto classics
What?
I ain't seen a royalty check
I've been grindin' out the trunk trying to avoid all these debts
I'm a G
It takes more to annoy me with threats
Pull over
Pop the trunk then I reach behind my boy for the tech
First nigga run up boy and be wet
6 feet beneath the soil he's kept
So now I'm movin'
Headlights flashin' behind me
What's he doin?
Without thinkin jack move it's the conclusion
Surreal like an illusion
I hop out tech pre-cocked to wet until the clip pop out
I pull my 40-Glock out
Aimin' at windshields
I start blastin'
The shells hittin' the ground in a synchronized fashion
Flame from both barrels is flashin'
Just like the OG showed me shoot first with no askin'
Broken glass
Paint chips around the bullet holes
I've never seen a car so fulla those
I tried to blink but my eyes wouldn't close
I just stood there froze
My brother leaning out the driver's side with his skull exposed
He had a look on his face that I could not explain
Same one I'm makin' while I'm shakin' on his shot up frame
I'm trippin' I ain't gotta ask if he's dead
With bare hands dog I'm scoopin' brains back in his head
Phone ringin' off the hook on my hip so I answer
My cousin' tellin' me
"Your brother wouldn't take the chance of
Lettin' them fake niggas gown you so he's on his way"
With tears streamin' down I calmly say
"He found me"
Oh dog what have I done?
Brother Jason... I'm so sorry
NO!
Flatline
I'm feelin' like we ain't leavin here