On This Real Shit by Twistid Rob Lyrics
Verse 1
I'm about to kill the instrumental better check his pulse
When I show up with my pencil and the murder case closed
When I'm settin down my chopper and the syllables flow
I like to play with the rhythm and I let it all go
But it's cliche well these days with beats played like heat rays
I eat grapes like kings wait for pete sake I beast rage
On 3 page of 3 days a week and I see great
Believe me it's D day I'll replay the relay is decayed
The reverb has got words I be brave I concave
Melody pop and kickflip to a catapult
To a manual, patterns of an animal
Eatin through these MC's like a bloodthirsty cannibal
I am flammable, liquid nitrogen I shatter badifolds
I glue bladderul, attackin you with dadderall
I hack a saw I pack it raw I'm feelin like I just injected some Ritalin with a little bit of adderall
Hook
But on this real shit I'm out for a mill tick
It's still twisted as fuck and y'all gotta deal with it
I'm ill fitted leaving chills when the pills kick in
My wheels spinnin my grill grittin, I been sittin
In a tiny shore room a hobby hole, if you have a problem with my place you gotta go
I don't need you motherfuckers shoving down the throat, you comin with the Niko shit and never brought it no
Verse 2
And I'm tired of these wannabes just chokin up the game
They need a choke chain back to the yard where they slang
Where they gang bang throwin up them gang signs, all these mother fuckers talkin about a gang life
Seen it on the same side and it ain't right, they actin like they family but they ain't tight
But when it comes to my division in the kitchen we be runnin up these recipes like motherfuckers wanna listen
We give them boom watts and make those windows bend, a session in the studio is music for a friend
Right before the casket I'll be slapping beats until the end, reincarnated I will do it all over again
I don't like how these people look at me, they shake their head in misbelief I know they're hatin me, woah
Hook
But on this real shit I'm out for a mill tick
It's still twisted as fuck and y'all gotta deal with it
I'm ill fitted leaving chills when the pills kick in
My wheels spinnin my grill grittin, I been sittin
In a tiny shore room a hobby hole, if you have a problem with my place you gotta go
I don't need you motherfuckers shoving down the throat, you comin with the Niko shit and never brought it no
Verse 3
And some of you motherfuckers can't even acknowledge the fact that you ain't got shit, but a turd polished
Go ahead and roast it with some peppers and your olives, but you claim to be a killer and you know you're not honest
Abe, your legs, they shake
When it comes to confrontation, you break, you're fake
Its time for you to wake...up, and smell the black silk
Cause some of you are rotten like some motherfuckin bad milk
You make me wanna puke, y'all be rappin firecrackers I'm about to drop a nuke
Then I get to jukin, hadukin I move them, with one hell of an upper cut on your trail just like a spook
I am crafted, Armageddon at its worst, you want me on your instrumental well I'm spittin first
Well check it homie you ain't gonna get a free verse, I'm gettin money gettin paid like I deserve
Hook
But on this real shit I'm out for a mill tick
It's still twisted as fuck and y'all gotta deal with it
I'm ill fitted leaving chills when the pills kick in
My wheels spinnin my grill grittin, I been sittin
In a tiny shore room a hobby hole, if you have a problem with my place you gotta go
I don't need you motherfuckers shoving down the throat, you comin with the Niko shit and never brought it no
I'm about to kill the instrumental better check his pulse
When I show up with my pencil and the murder case closed
When I'm settin down my chopper and the syllables flow
I like to play with the rhythm and I let it all go
But it's cliche well these days with beats played like heat rays
I eat grapes like kings wait for pete sake I beast rage
On 3 page of 3 days a week and I see great
Believe me it's D day I'll replay the relay is decayed
The reverb has got words I be brave I concave
Melody pop and kickflip to a catapult
To a manual, patterns of an animal
Eatin through these MC's like a bloodthirsty cannibal
I am flammable, liquid nitrogen I shatter badifolds
I glue bladderul, attackin you with dadderall
I hack a saw I pack it raw I'm feelin like I just injected some Ritalin with a little bit of adderall
Hook
But on this real shit I'm out for a mill tick
It's still twisted as fuck and y'all gotta deal with it
I'm ill fitted leaving chills when the pills kick in
My wheels spinnin my grill grittin, I been sittin
In a tiny shore room a hobby hole, if you have a problem with my place you gotta go
I don't need you motherfuckers shoving down the throat, you comin with the Niko shit and never brought it no
Verse 2
And I'm tired of these wannabes just chokin up the game
They need a choke chain back to the yard where they slang
Where they gang bang throwin up them gang signs, all these mother fuckers talkin about a gang life
Seen it on the same side and it ain't right, they actin like they family but they ain't tight
But when it comes to my division in the kitchen we be runnin up these recipes like motherfuckers wanna listen
We give them boom watts and make those windows bend, a session in the studio is music for a friend
Right before the casket I'll be slapping beats until the end, reincarnated I will do it all over again
I don't like how these people look at me, they shake their head in misbelief I know they're hatin me, woah
Hook
But on this real shit I'm out for a mill tick
It's still twisted as fuck and y'all gotta deal with it
I'm ill fitted leaving chills when the pills kick in
My wheels spinnin my grill grittin, I been sittin
In a tiny shore room a hobby hole, if you have a problem with my place you gotta go
I don't need you motherfuckers shoving down the throat, you comin with the Niko shit and never brought it no
Verse 3
And some of you motherfuckers can't even acknowledge the fact that you ain't got shit, but a turd polished
Go ahead and roast it with some peppers and your olives, but you claim to be a killer and you know you're not honest
Abe, your legs, they shake
When it comes to confrontation, you break, you're fake
Its time for you to wake...up, and smell the black silk
Cause some of you are rotten like some motherfuckin bad milk
You make me wanna puke, y'all be rappin firecrackers I'm about to drop a nuke
Then I get to jukin, hadukin I move them, with one hell of an upper cut on your trail just like a spook
I am crafted, Armageddon at its worst, you want me on your instrumental well I'm spittin first
Well check it homie you ain't gonna get a free verse, I'm gettin money gettin paid like I deserve
Hook
But on this real shit I'm out for a mill tick
It's still twisted as fuck and y'all gotta deal with it
I'm ill fitted leaving chills when the pills kick in
My wheels spinnin my grill grittin, I been sittin
In a tiny shore room a hobby hole, if you have a problem with my place you gotta go
I don't need you motherfuckers shoving down the throat, you comin with the Niko shit and never brought it no