That's Real

[Verse 1: King-ISO]:
It never occurred to me how sick I am
It's only real, folks, if it's not planned
Like think, what if my strap did not jam?
I fed so many people that have bit my hand
Try to kick these habits, homie, for this hip-hop, man
Feel like Tim Roth and Pac in Gridlock'd, man
Cats out here will try to leave me dead
Just to jack my plug and try to get my fans
So, f*ck luck, young blood
Like I was hit by chance
Gun tucked, won't buck with a b*tch, like "Damn!"
I was homeless, no chips, no whips, like "Man!"
But I kept down b*tches that'll kiss my hand
Took a chick clean record, put this gun charge on it
n*ggas all on my di*k, like they jump off on it
Best friend turnin' enemies, and watch me make it
Now I'm looking at them like "this what the f*ck y'all wanted?"
Put the other side on, didn't charge a price
Your game I lost, thats a bargain right?
n*gga told me don't cross him, but he crossed me twice
How I see it is hes lucky he ain't lost his life
We still bump heads on some awkward nights
It's a small ass world, so we're all disciples
Can't trust no n*gga when you large as life
n*gga better slow down like a caution light
I'm a gangsta, n*gga, What the f*ck y'all mean?
Came a long way from the psycho days
Whoever saw that movie and didn't call me crazy
I'm watching that sh*t, like there my life go bae
My brain be hella sick, I'm going crazy, n*gga
I be thinkin' about the psych ward lately, n*gga
But I finally got a real chance to make it, n*gga
That's why I called Insane and said "Thanks, my n*gga"
That's real

[Twisted Insane]:
And that's real
You know it's gonna be a lot of motherf*ckers that try to come in
Snakes in the grass out there, homie
And they gon' try to stir sh*t up
You know what I mean?
But it's you
It all starts with you, homie
What do you wanna do?
Who do you wanna be?
Now once you figure out that
It's all over [?] (Yeah)
And that's real

[Verse 2: King-ISO]:
I ain't have sh*t, n*gga, but the flows I lay
One basket of clothes, scuffs on my J's
Poppin' pills and I would smoke all day
Drinkin' liquor, call the hoes my way
I can't believe a n*gga dome got straight
Fake love got thrown my way
My idols real life became my homies
Just imagine all the hope I gained
I'm thinking to myself, "Why I puff my weed?"
I'm high, I get low when I f*ck my freaks
I wake up in the morning and I brush my teeth
These n*ggas in the game hood, just like me
And to think a n*gga used to be on cut-throat sh*t
I ain't talking about spades, I mean gunsmoke sh*t
Now I get racks on plays when I compose sh*t
Them mothaf*ckas' can't wait until I upload sh*t
Success to my enemies is bitter-sweet
Speaking of, I need to hit this weed
I remember when I was in Atlanta
Spillin' cheap ass wine on Bentley seats
n*ggas back home, they was mad as f*ck
It was just an image, now it's addin' up
I wasn't celebratin' like "n*gga, start"
I was just content without havin' none
Back in traffic, still packin' guns
Once you have a son, you quit actin' dumb
From a cell to homeless Now havin' funds
Now I'm puttin' on, here the badges come
My brain be hella sick, I'm going crazy, n*gga
I've been thinkin' about the psych ward lately, n*gga
But I got a real chance just to make it, n*gga
That's why I called Insane and said "Thanks, my n*gga"
That's real

[Twisted Insane]:
You know, they say music without the Brain is soulless
I remember when I was hopeless
You know, it's funny that I'm on the f*ckin' [?]
I make what I really pawn, n*gga
All my idols, All the mothaf*ckin' tanks
I listened to when I was a kid coming up
All of them
I've done songs with them
Ain't that sh*t crazy, man?
And that's real
Yeah, like the mothaf*cka was just handlin' sh*t, homie
No serious bullsh*t, n*gga
It's been a long road
'Ya know?
Now it's your road
Now it's your time
It's on you...