Reality Check

[Verse 1: Kay Cavie] Now watch me somersault, flip-flop, flip-flop, double backdrop A hand full of rhythm and wipe my ass with this track Flush the camo, and explode with the vocal pitch The lyrical mad man-murderer is up in this bitch Now all these record labels looking for the Cavie Small time independent producers is coming crafty No royalties nigga, ain't Nate and Pac And sign for one year with seven motherfucking options Bound to a contract; that shit ain't even cool Feeling like a ho, doing involuntary servitude What's even worse is yo shady ass manager Telling you to sign your name so it's on shit that could damage ya Amateur ass motherfuckers in my business Ain't even got no skills, and tryna make decisions Thinking that they got a nigga locked up for years But ain't no busta motherfucker can fuck off my career [Hook: Peeps Game] The reality check is for those bustas who be frontin', see And all those busta ass fags in the industry So watch your backs, and keep your backs watched Cause you never know who could be clocking yo pockets Gunshots if ya try to clock Glocks Set tripping, acting like ya know T.K.O. if ya think so, don't be that punk ho It's business, not yo sho Reality's checked, now ya know [Verse 2: Peeps Game] I've been through so much drama that this shit is like a movie Changing scripts on me? Causing me to wreck my mind I've been on my good behavior Tryna do the right thing, cause music is my savior But, I have to deal with knuckleheads who be tripping on they headtrips I just spit on that shit, cause I'm red The approaches I get are so funny Thank God I'm smarting than those honeys who be juggling us for money I have my bulletproof mind on Check yaself, grab ya bags and don't be so shallow I battle if I have to set you straight, even raise ya tone of voice When you're speaking to me, I am the real and nobody A female was tripped on my the pure power Battlecat picked the track so now you can devour The drama has been taped into ya mind Check reality and see through the lights Don't wait for the truth to find you All you need to do is be true And check the fools that try to get you, that's real [Hook: Peeps Game] The reality check is for those bustas who be frontin', see And all those busta ass fags in the industry So watch your backs, and keep your backs watched Cause you never know who could be clocking yo pockets Gunshots if ya try to clock Glocks Set tripping, acting like ya know T.K.O. if ya think so, don't be that punk ho It's business, not yo sho Reality's checked, now ya know [Verse 3: Playa Hamm] Now I’m known for bringing these bustas heads when it comes to it While spitting mack, intoxicated like a fat ass bootsack In fact, many must not screw it thinking since it’s on their conversation But I just can’t see no retaliation I told ya, when I entered this game I raise the spot with a passion and affection that’s trashing And this is how I’m living So you could take this reality check to the neck homies and come correct Like it seems to me the players doing it in the East Putting it down, so everyone can get upon a piece A robbery is what I’m stressing not to set trip Too many tricks don’t wanna see me with no pimp as it is Like this here used to allocate on bottoms, went from my coming Niggas act like we can’t have nothing if they ain’t getting some These suckers know who made it easier to slang a sack Don’t let the media make you have to question your back Cause it’s ours for the taking, [?] the shaking and faking Cause it’s way too much money that them mothers making First it’s gon’ take you and me, then it’s gon’ take us and we Cause ours will never be if together you can’t see [Verse 4: Kam] Yo what time is it? Niggas do y’all really know? What everybody have to act so silly fo’, really doe? Until we go Hollywood the niggas be cool Then they start blowing up and act a goddamn fool Getting gassed up, and passed up every opportunity To make sure the West Coast had the proper unity But nah, it’s always the same, no? Money and fame, they say that’s all I’m in the game fo’ So what’s my name? I get my bud from the spot I’m Elmer J. Fudd, millionaire, I own a mansion and a yacht Got killas on deck that’ll peel ya cap Well, I can dance to the beat but can’t feel ya rap It’s a reality check [Hook: Peeps Game] The reality check is for those bustas who be frontin', see And all those busta ass fags in the industry So watch your backs, and keep your backs watched Cause you never know who could be clocking yo pockets Gunshots if ya try to clock Glocks Set tripping, acting like ya know T.K.O. if ya think so, don't be that punk ho It's business, not yo sho Reality's checked, now ya know