true identity - ty farris lyrics
[intro:]
“true identity hidden inside secret tabloids”
[verse 1:]
moving at a different pace living in a mental state
free real estate ’cause they living fake and my lyrics great
soft as a microwave lemon cake talkin like they on the interstate and they switching plates i don’t believe it my fans listening
they nose is bleeding they know the reason i disconnect when i notice treason
trust issues i know i got em riddler with a ratchet
this roman gotham all way poppin but i’m playing possum
only acknowledge the real and if you solid with the sk!lls
passive aggressive rappers only get it poppin with some pills
let me reveal their true identity no coke cooking, no opps in the mirror
they only enemy see through souls and see synergy
no collab with artists without chemistry
whistleblower to the industry in the streets always
since my barber was giving me a bad boy faith for 40
flat when the laws came, my redemption has been shawshank
stayed the course, never lost faith i’m proof that allah’s great
they designing with disguises every bar fake my thought tank
the reason my label getting large freights
[hook:]
they not what they pretend to be
gotta be able to see their true identity
see the man in the mirror
they only enemy
it’s the difference between the streets
(“in the streets, and the streets”)
[verse 2:]
silhouettes of tragedy, of casualties roam my hood
and they attacking me asking me do i got survivor’s remorse?
of course i look back at life and what it forced
fake friends revealed but what’s the source?
what you see is what you get when it come to me
only posing for pictures and barely doing that
never losing track my train of thought producing facts
i’m making money off rap why would i be moving packs?
elusive, very exclusive but if you catch me drifting
the convo valuable memorize every minute
down to earth i try to reply to every mention
in the game of a wave where n*ggas is cherry picking
fruits of labor got me paranoid alluding danger
stay true to yourself don’t let the music change you
a couple dollars in the chain you ain’t made nothing
fate’s of self*made hustler get an a+ grade friend
[outro:]
“true identity hidden inside secret tabloids”
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