Reality Check Songtext
von J Dilla feat. Black Thought
Reality Check Songtext
Yo,
I′m having trouble at the crib,
I'm goin at it with my baby mother where I live,
While the soilders bleed,
The economy recede,
And all she want to watch is reality TV.
Went from a Surreal Life to Strange Love,
Some behaviour I couldn′t figure the flavor,
Drive by the Charm School,
Where she Fell in Love with New York,
And love Money, that's what I'm not made of,
I bought a membership to the Celebrity Fit Club,
To see if I could stand a Real Chance with this love.
It don′t make sense,
The way she tried to turn a G to a Gent,
But need Tough Love, don′t get it mixed up,
I was one of those WildBoyz
Shooting for Seizmore.
She was alittle live jawn, watching The Osbournes.
The Best Week Ever,
Had her Going for Broke like Eddie Griffin,
Or Danny Bonaduce,
But no she never listen,
When I drop a Super Sweet 16,
Daydreaming of becoming Miss Rap Supreme,
Or maybe Making the Band will bring your gunz out,
Sing your lungs out,
Move out like Daddy's Girls out of Runs House.
But that′s Against All Odds,
Pick apart and might come and try to Flip Your Ride,
Real as Real Houswifes of Atlanta,
Yeah it's real outside,
Ending like an episode of College Hill outside,
Whether it be for the love of the PayDay,
Or for the love of trying to have a baby for Ray J,
The most modest model on Project Runway,
She want to be Kimora living life in the Fab Lane,
And change her last name,
And since Gotti′s Way was passe,
She watch Salt & Pepper and Celeb Rehab Day,
That's all she talk about at the cafe,
I swear to God it drove me to drink about half a carafe′,
My head still spinning,
I'm so through with women,
Who watch reruns of the Real World with dinner,
And Kim Kardashian moms and Bruce Jenner,
And Three 6 Mafia show and Jerry Springer,
Scott Baio 46 and knocked up,
I'd rather see the First 48 or Locked Up.
Instead it′s just a Nanny 911,
I′m Trading Spouses,
Extreme Makover, she rearranged the couches,
Now, she keep changing outfits,
I'm about to have to get at Dr. Phil to do something about this.
The house not fresh,
She not Top Chef.
I tell her Viva la Bam, she tell me not yet,
Watching Cribs,
Looking at shit she never gonna get,
Americas Best Dance Crew, she trying to do the steps,
About to do her like Beyonce and tell her to the left,
Truth be told, she bout to television me to death!
Yo!
I′m having trouble at the crib,
I'm goin at it with my baby mother where I live,
While the soilders bleed,
The economy recede,
And all she want to watch is reality TV.
Went from a Surreal Life to Strange Love,
Some behaviour I couldn′t figure the flavor,
Drive by the Charm School,
Where she Fell in Love with New York,
And love Money, that's what I'm not made of,
I bought a membership to the Celebrity Fit Club,
To see if I could stand a Real Chance with this love.
It don′t make sense,
The way she tried to turn a G to a Gent,
But need Tough Love, don′t get it mixed up,
I was one of those WildBoyz
Shooting for Seizmore.
She was alittle live jawn, watching The Osbournes.
The Best Week Ever,
Had her Going for Broke like Eddie Griffin,
Or Danny Bonaduce,
But no she never listen,
When I drop a Super Sweet 16,
Daydreaming of becoming Miss Rap Supreme,
Or maybe Making the Band will bring your gunz out,
Sing your lungs out,
Move out like Daddy's Girls out of Runs House.
But that′s Against All Odds,
Pick apart and might come and try to Flip Your Ride,
Real as Real Houswifes of Atlanta,
Yeah it's real outside,
Ending like an episode of College Hill outside,
Whether it be for the love of the PayDay,
Or for the love of trying to have a baby for Ray J,
The most modest model on Project Runway,
She want to be Kimora living life in the Fab Lane,
And change her last name,
And since Gotti′s Way was passe,
She watch Salt & Pepper and Celeb Rehab Day,
That's all she talk about at the cafe,
I swear to God it drove me to drink about half a carafe′,
My head still spinning,
I'm so through with women,
Who watch reruns of the Real World with dinner,
And Kim Kardashian moms and Bruce Jenner,
And Three 6 Mafia show and Jerry Springer,
Scott Baio 46 and knocked up,
I'd rather see the First 48 or Locked Up.
Instead it′s just a Nanny 911,
I′m Trading Spouses,
Extreme Makover, she rearranged the couches,
Now, she keep changing outfits,
I'm about to have to get at Dr. Phil to do something about this.
The house not fresh,
She not Top Chef.
I tell her Viva la Bam, she tell me not yet,
Watching Cribs,
Looking at shit she never gonna get,
Americas Best Dance Crew, she trying to do the steps,
About to do her like Beyonce and tell her to the left,
Truth be told, she bout to television me to death!
Yo!
Writer(s): Keith Elam, Christopher E Martin Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
