yeh… folks talk like they got it all straight. but they twisted, dog… twist’d in the head—an’ don’t even know it. back in the day you could feel who was solid, real stayed real— now they polished the toxic. talk slick, walk slick, think they sane, but they wildin’ blind, throwin’ hands like it ain’t pain. i seen folk flip wit' a smile on they face, burn bridges like it ain’t leave no trace. sayin’ “you the problem” while they gaslight clean, actin’ like cold moves don’t cut in-between. we all got that break in the brain, homie, all hear that voice when the world go phony, but the real ones know when the crazy come in, don’t blame the room when they spinnin’ within. i ain’t tryna preach, i jus’ see what i see, truth don’t flex, it jus’ let folk be. some walk off edge, think they flyin’ high, ’till they fall through floor— then askin’ why. where they go, all the sane ones gone, left us dealin’ wit’ folks that perform. movin’ like the world ain’t got no weight, do dirt then cry like it ain’t too late. nah... where they at, the ones who think clear? now it's flash an’ spin an’ blame, can't tell truth from a street fake name. i seen good minds go twist, seen 'em snap in the sun, heard a brother say peace while he loadin’ a gun, smiles in courtrooms, prayers in the trap, talkin’ ‘bout God while they settin’ a trap. i ain’t sayin’ i’m clean, i’m just conscious wit’ it, i know when the switch flip, i feel that limit. see the devil in the mirror when my eyes stay still, i don’t front like it ain’t there— that’s will. they act wild then justify every cut, never seen a wound they ain’t call love. how you hurt folks and say you woke, then ghost 'em fast when the guilt too close? nah… i’m crazy too, but i know it, fool. i count my madness when the moon feel close, i hold my damage like a worn-out coat. difference is, i don't lie to the heat, don’t play victim when i’m bringin' defeat. know my flaws like the back of my hand— they out here blindfolded, actin' like they stand. where they go, all the sane ones left, left us dealin’ wit' folk who flex to def. throw hands then cry when it don’t go clean, fake smart, real mean, too loud to be seen. yo, where they hidin', the ones who knew? used to say less but the feel ran true. now it's all talk, all game, all spin— and they swear they right when they causin’ the sin. nah… we all crazy. but real ones know when. and that’s the whole game.
