Trah Nalyd - 5 Fingers (Till' The End) lyrics

[Lead-in] Real eyes realize real lies (x2) [Verse 1: Brad Holmes] A bored boy who's offending all the ma**es Chill with Franz, all my songs ought to turn to cla**ics Started I was nine and inspired by the magic Of Shady's mad raps now his hats are popping rabbits Matches sparked, fire flames spitting out as drool A basket in the game, I'ma splash in the pool Of all these sharks with these b**hy fishes in the school f** a cla**, f** a room, my reign will rain doom In my kingdom I reside, with queens on my mind I'ma make my mother rich enough to last for ten lives And if my mother's sick, bet I'm by her bed side I'll buy a bed so nice so I can sleep through the night I'm dreaming of the future as the past pa**es by Lit the magic candle light, hocus pocus I can write Old school enough to teach even Jesus 'bout his rights Riiiiiiights Seconds pa** fast My speech is getting slurred, vision getting blurred The sky is getting foggy so it's doobies for the hurt The sky is getting foggy so it's doobies for the hurt It's doobies for the hurt It's doobies for the hurt [Bridge/Hook: Brad Holmes] I arrive with a bang No sh**s or a care Doin' my thang Got a mind really rare Some ho wanna hang Always gotta share Count my real friends 5 fingers in the air 5 fingers in the air 5 fingers in the air Squad till' the end 5 fingers in the air Shout my dude Ben 5 fingers in the air [Verse 2: B-SIM] Yo, I'ma tell em' like this man, check it... Create rhymes through patience and time Listen deep and realize the way I travel through minds So fresh you'd think my whole crew traveled through time Even without a Delorean we're still living in glorious times People on my back telling me to get sh** done I tell em' wait till' the tape Drop lines like bombs and watch em' all run Keep to myself, a loner 5 fingers in the air, all my real friends are stoners Keep a dime sack in my pocket, space shuttle level I'm never grounded just like active rockets, soaring through the air Catch me hanging on the moon, often no oxygen Moon walking into my own coffin There's no stoppin' Flow's a triple reverse option There's no toppin' For a whole week there was no coppin' I'm glad I was introduced back to my old ways Cuz' in the future I'll just want to go back to the old days That's how I feel about my friends at the moment Like chemistry, you mix us up, we seem to be the right components People talk down when they hear that I can rap I spit true just open your ears to hear that I got some mother f**in' goons on my back See us together in person, we tend to move in a pack It goes toke, smoke, cruise and relax Only roll through my city when we don't have the thrax My older bro taught me that b**h! Mother f**in' 2-1-6!