Diving into the world of hustle and grind, "Realist" is an unapologetic anthem of street life. The artists reflect on their journey from a life of hardship in council flats to the glitz and glamour of success. The lyrics depict their relentless pursuit of wealth, even if it means dealing with complaints from loved ones due to lack of time for them. They also touch on the dark side of such a lifestyle, including violence and jail time. Yet, they remain grounded in their roots, reminding themselves and listeners about where they come from. Despite the challenges, they celebrate their achievements - expensive watches, mansions with pools, and luxury trips - asserting that they are still genuine or 'real' despite their newfound wealth.
Realist
Lyrics
(Quincy Tellem)
Ballin' with no caption, hmm
Yeah
Been gettin' money, no jokes and games (nah)
No time for her, so you know she always complain (always complain)
No matter how late I be startin' my day
These racks still gotta get made (gotta get made)
From the council flats, back on the estate (uh)
Where the kids might stick you with a shank broad day (broad day)
Depressed, when did I stop flippin' that yay?
Hit the show, that's another 10K
Still the realest
Hundred K on the watch
I know it ain't smart but it glow in the dark (see the bustdown)
Nigga's know I got heart
I circle your block like there's nowhere to park (come on)
Then I slap it on a don (blap, blap)
I ain't just rappin' on a song (nah)
Soon as the packs come in, they're gone (flyin' them)
I'm like El Chapo where I'm from (Ice City)
Can't take badman for fool
Cah we clappin' off them tools (yeah, yeah)
I wore hand-me-downs to school (uh)
Now the mansion got a pool
If it weren't a mad ting, I was not signin'
Cah I made mills on the block grindin'
Told my little niggas, "Better stop slidin'"
Strap on my waist like I was rock climbin'
Been gettin' money, no jokes and games (nah)
No time for her, so you know she always complain (always complain)
No matter how late I be startin' my day
These racks still gotta get made (gotta get made)
From the council flats, back on the estate (uh)
Where the kids might stick you with a shank broad day (broad day)
Depressed, when did I stop flippin' that yay?
Hit the show, that's another 10K
Still the realest
Korean full spa, all private (private)
Just me and her, all quiet (real quiet)
Dorchester Suite, I enquired
Restaurant and the room booked, I'm buyin'
Then I flew ten grand, link the pilot
Told him, "Take me where the stars dem flyin'" (real quick)
Cah I been in jail years, I'm dyin' (dead)
Everybody's gettin' money, everybody's stylin'
Bare platinum or gold, I'm smilin' (bling)
Fat and black diamonds, trust me, I'm shinin'
Bare gyal, I'm grindin'
Smilin', it's blindin' (uh)
All about timin', I'm with the best rhymin' (I know)
Got the grease lightenin', always on a hype ting (grease)
Got a new .9 ting , really wanna fire 'em (baow)
And my new ride, win's chicks wanna drive it
Automatic drivin', make her wanna ride stick
Been gettin' money, no jokes and games (nah)
No time for her, so you know she always complain (always complain)
No matter how late I be startin' my day
These racks still gotta get made (gotta get made)
From the council flats, back on the estate (uh)
Where the kids might stick you with a shank broad day (broad day)
Depressed, when did I stop flippin' that yay?
Hit the show, that's another 10K
Still the realest
My nigga Carlos on the buttons, you know?
Say nothin' my guy
Writer(s): Carlos Corrodus, Courtney Freckleton, Nathan Adams, Quincy Ferreira
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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