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letra de paralegal. - yin the reaper

[intro]
i don’t wanna be biased, i don’t wanna be biased
i don’t wanna be biased, i don’t wanna be biased
but you always be lyin’ [?]
you don’t know what i
you don’t know what i
feel, feel, feel
‘lil shawty off a pill
pill, pill
throw it back baby, why you sit still
still, still
think i need your love on the real (yeah)
real
‘lil shawty off a pill
pill, pill
throw it back baby, why you sit still
still, still
think i need your love on the real
real, real
[verse]
okay, walk up in the lobby
they know i got somethin’ on me
tryna’ run away and hide while you lyin’ to the homies
don’t you get them k!llers hype
they can smell it you’re phony
no designer on my body
my cologne, i call it og
homie said he need that fire
told him watch it when the stovе blaze
now he caught up totin’ iron
and he flippin’ bricks of cocainе
heaven is a liar, why you think they made the dope game
everybody needs suppliers
some with collars, others gold chains
you whisper to me softly in the dream that it was okay
i woke up, i was screamin’, gaspin’
this is it, there’s no way
i know i don’t got no fire ‘cuz i’m livin’ in a cold blaze
so it’s hard to make you happy
can you see me, can you show face

[chorus]
you don’t know what i
you don’t know what i
feel, feel, feel
‘lil shawty off a pill
pill, pill
throw it back baby, why you sit still
still, still
think i need your love on the real (yeah)
real
‘lil shawty off a pill
pill, pill
throw it back baby, why you sit still
still, still
think i need your love on the real
real, real
[verse 2]
saw my name and my initials
sold my soul to make a change
from the government officials to the bigots eatin’ plates
while my brother swipin’ ebts, the figures eatin’ steak
never givin’ me a plate
why you think we filled with hate
give our dreams up to the system
but i think it’s ’bout to overload
the people been exhausted
gettin’ sick of being comatose
and look who’s in the office
dig a coffin for the [?]
survivors in the climate, please enlighten me
my homie servin’ packs, but he coulda’ went to ivy league
and now i’m lookin’ back, writin’ dreams inside my diary
a good one finished [?] last
i’m a boy with all the irony [?]
my [?] got a bullet hole
there’s things i really shouldn’t know
but how i’m supposed to feel when the life worth livin’
turns to nights worth diggin’ a grave
i put my pen to the page
i hope you picture me sane
it ain’t worth it, tryna’ find me in a different lane
i can’t do sh-t but just pray

- yin the reaper

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