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when keepin' it real goes right - chris collins lyrics

[verse 1: collins]

cadaverous flows leave you in holes while i’m spitting
got my poems on your mind like a red sox fitted
it’s cold, so b-tton up, here’s a sweater that i knitted
woof woof go my dogs, you a p-ssy, i ain’t kitten (kidding) huh
and its the rapper’s life to be
i done f-cked up this beat like it’s poppin’ vic (vicodin) or e (ecstasy)
i be running through these garbage rappers, all the sh-t reeks
all this pot that i’m smoking ain’t helping me clean my sneaks (sneakers)
spittin’ ether, my rhymes lift you out your sneakers
flowin’ so ill think i vomit out your speakers
with impeccable rhymin’ the kid is high like he mountain climbing
his sh-t is so deep you might mistake him for someone scuba diving
i ain’t a fiend, not a fan of the yay (cocaine)
i blow weed, my girl abbey rolls blunts all day
i’ll hit you in the nuts with a hammer, that’s croquet
i spit the law when i rap, man you better obey

[verse 2: collins]

why the f-ck you flossing, you ain’t hot
you stone cold steve austin, nose running with snot
my rhymes, hard liquor, spit sicker than a hospital
bumping my sh-t as a lightweight is impossible
write right handed but my rhymin’ ambidextrous
defying all perception from the booth to f-cking texas
we want it all with a lexus and a girl named alexis
chilling in the back of the studio just counting check’s, uh huh
mean while, my freestyle could use some work
all this rippin’ and tearin’ of beats just driving me beserk
astounding timing combined with some deeper rhyming
got a smile on my face, the sh-t is sweet like it’s dessert
i keep it real like jermaine in the ville (j. cole)
can’t get enough of stupid rappers thinking that they so ill
and we be on the front lines, you b-tches be at the rear
i’m a underground king, my haters can take care, ok

- chris collins lyrics

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