Realm Reality - Immoral Ventilation lyrics

(Hook x2: Realm Reality) Blood, sweat, tears, bruises Developing habits of never losing Guns, bang, shirts, stain Infamous to the d**h, we die for this music (Verse 1: Realm Reality) I'm bad as ever when they cash the bread up Practice makes better when I smash your head up These turtles clash will shred up I got an axe to switch a liver Kitchen knife to sever Better safe than ever Having weapons when they try and catch up My mama raised me with a harsh tone, see a cross clones Deeper science achieving to re-import chrome Bushwick life, all I saw was my reality sponsored links To be an old man and survive was the mentality Most with casualties, living wrong with the right type To find out he was shot smoking loud on a quiet night Running the hood like I'm living on Troutman Any rapper trying to play cowboy, they scalp them Infamous grind mode be the routine Fool proof schemes adapt to enemies, a dream God forgives, but he don't approve the situation When the band hateful, disgraceful, the immoral ventilation (Verse 2: Roc Marciano) Check it, bend the Timbs on a dead end I'm better in sin, Mac 10, 750 with the fin The gun come with a twin, the rush with a touch of M It's rough to men like a hustle to skin Drunk the Hen and I was s**ed in The underworld's full of corrupt men Mother of pearly on a thug's wrist Write it potent The Rover sees white like yoghurt My lines quoted, disquoted Twist wishes, kiss boers, script poems Silked out with the cryst loafers Still play the park, sparked We danced underneath the top Then it got dark, the same play the harp The large snake ate the heart I create art and rock the Carhatt sharp I'm a car shark, scoffs Bust shots out of parked cars Lit cigars, n***a, spit bars, Mars (Hook x2: Realm Reality) Blood, sweat, tears, bruises Developing habits of never losing Guns, bang, shirts, stain Infamous to the d**h, we die for this music (Verse 3: AG Da Coroner) I've seen a man get on his knees and cry tears of blood First born in a casket, laying down in the mud The product of his environment, a murderer or a shooter n***as start going crazy when they f**ing with the Buddha Stood in front of a judge, had the book thrown at him Sentenced to ten joints, now the wolves gone grab him He used to run the streets with me, bunkbed sleep with me Rob the bodega and dipping from the police with me No appetite is stronger than that of the concrete I can tell you how it feels to find bullets where mom sleeps Bumping that old Mobb Deep, living that Brooklyn life Some n***as took a flight, surroundings weren't looking right Older than I look, five borough representation Run reality & coroner, immoral ventilation We live by a code that wasn't written in the Bible The look in my eyes is half peacemaker, half homicidal (Verse 4: Termanology) My n***as ain't satisfied untill we spending checks Our Twitters ain't verified, but we could care less Cause we be sipping Becks in my clique of mess ST infamous, show off your techs I glow of my rep with my lost connects I s** Harvard chicks that hardly make some Molly Tripping poly with the obvious, anonymous Madonna Miss America look alike, she turning off the lights You can find me in the back with a pound of dust In the grind we trust, by any means we counting bucks You funny rappers is jelly my clique is rich already Shot out machete, he knocked the n***a out that was petty I'm on my block with a heavy coke of bag and I'm ready To serve any cuddy for money, I'm wrapping this feddy Hollered at Rick, he told me we was running the game Plus we was running the train, told him we one and the same (Hook x2: Realm Reality) Blood, sweat, tears, bruises Developing habits of never losing Guns, bang, shirts, stain Infamous to the d**h, we die for this music