Federal Reality lyrics

(Red, that ho so fuckin' bumpin', bruh) Blrrd, blrrd, blrrd, blrrd Blrrd, get up, pussy Get up with me Bulletproof, I'm the bully You walk 'round Memphis, you know I'm totin' a fully First day out them jail doors, I burnt up all my jail clothes 'Rari truck and Richard Mille, both of 'em dipped in rose gold Got kicked out the FCI, crashed with the GD, glizzy froze Stood over with that blrrd, somehow that bitch survived, though In the trenches, sittin' on the curb, I hear the streets tellin' me, Go Since they locked up Smurk, I don't listen to Federal Nightmares no more This shit reality, they plottin' to shatter us with a RICO These niggas'll shoot at you, you bust back at 'em, they gon' tell the folks Six months in isolation, I learned to master patience Showed me who real and fake and postin' Free Shiesty won't save 'em I got two different ways I wanna go 'bout gettin' somethin' straighten But this halfway house and home confinement shit finna drive me crazy I just wanna pop out in your section, thirty deep, nigga Turn the radio down, I'm tryna listen to the streets, nigga Steady rippin' my trigger, fact and them for SRT Some reason I think them switches fit better on Gen 3s, nigga For Treyday, we chunk threes, my bitch Black and Japanese Ridin' foreign, it's a Striker, this bitch ain't even got no key I might let the sunroof back so when she top me, you can see Got her feet facin' the door, head in my lap, knees in the seat I'm tryna run through the top bitches from your section in one week Pussy ho send me one letter talkin' 'bout she wrote, that shit weak Behind them chains, you played them games, I'm back out, now the game's on me Won't show my hand, feet back on land, Pooh Shiesty, capital P A real hitter, check my credentials, he ain't slick, I just ain't kicked him Hope my lil niggas get richer, if she blink twice, I'ma hit her Bitch want me to eat and kiss her, bitch, you tweakin', play with your nigga And I heard your nigga snitched, that make both of y'all hot as shit You ain't never seen a nigga bop in the club with your bitch And they know we smooshed they nigga, they still ain't tried to do shit KRISS Vector clip with a switch, 57 so accurate All my lil homies smack shit, even my sunroof five-percent In the feds, if you get anything under ten, that's a win Richard Mille my best friend, after him, it's Benjamin Dozin' off in a Maybach Benz, I was off Wocky and Triss Shiesty chain, three bricks of fent', two M's from my head to my wrist I came home, nigga still broke, I wasn't even missin' shit I'm dumpin' ashes on a sixteen thousand dollar outfit Now all my cars rose gold, bulletproof Mansory kits I'm still Mr. Go Too Far, ain't never goin', ain't never went, pussy