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ofb – reality lyrics

[intro]
if you don’t drill the replica good
the bullet won’t leave and pop
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[verse 1: bandokay]
more time just swing where the heart is
yo, let me get my hands on —–, push my rams straight through them gl-sses
in the t, we don’t feel no carpet, i’ve been there for time, ain’t clean my armpits
pedal bike on the strip, mans grafting, man just lean out the ride, start barking (bow!)

[verse 2: double lz]
ofb’s got too much skengs (bow!)
and we circle round on the opp block, don’t bring phones, just waps instead (we don’t)
we ain’t leaving angles bent, too many back roads popped on them
trip up, drop, oh d-mn you’re stressed
free ingz, free bradz, oyy keeps taking my friends

[verse 3: sj]
how many man been splashed and shot?
we done a drill, laid low from cops, see my hunting knife gon’ rip through tops (rip)
the pr got wrapped in socks and i’m in a next ends that’s kway, that’s posh
the skeng’s real safe, it’s calm, it’s locked (locked)
and when i rise it, it’s gon’ beat like thots
it’s gon’ beat like thots

[verse 4: bandokay]
what’s so hard to go step for your gs? me, i will just step and squeeze
did you hear that shotgun sneeze? —- called me and kissed her t–th
i think the corn will come out of her sleep, been permitted, just blammed a neek
talk is cheap—what happened that week? gang caught two but it should have been three
me and claps in a german doing top speed, right now we need two bad bs
i smoke cookies, that’s cali weed, move from here with them tired trees
catch me on the glide with a bruk down jeep, me ot, madmans and creeps (gang)
opp pulled up late at night and went screen, i ain’t heard nothing but the tyres screech (skrr)

[verse 5: double lz]
circle the woods with the spinner on me
this kid is a violent g
toured over there with guns back seat
rude boy drop and your feeling this heat
slap this wap, that’s a&e
barbies run and hold up your weave
pull up on yute and dump out three
h-lla man run, they push and scream
(and man can’t) man can’t be onto me
cah i’ll run up on your block with rambo out tryna fish down one of your g’s (ching)
these guys can’t talk on the team, too many man got chased by me (runners)
bore you up and the blade i keep (keep it)
and i had shh running from me
i’m not gonna lie, i gave him three (i bored him)
and man know i’m holding my shank
how many times have i unclipped my rams?
and we had them hiding in blocks, it’s straight up ments if you buck this gang (mothers)
dot dots slap, just watch it spread, again and again suttins gonna get whacked (bow!)
god knows why they don’t ride back, they keep it a mystery, dumb little (f-ck)

[verse 6: sj]
don’t slip with your bae and start running away (don’t run), and leave her like turner
little jojo got himself bored up and he’s beefing the o and he still ain’t turned us
they got bro-bro on the wing and they caging him in, want him locked like shmurda
but there’s only a matter of time then broski’s home and that day we turn up
but lets give the opps some clout
for the way that they run their mouth (run)
they ain’t scored no points on the o but it come like the o be their talk of the town (why they talking?)
where i’m from there’s a load of waps but when my opps run there’s a load of clowns
bad b on man from kway, she don’t get no love, only gets one round (one round)

[verse 7: bandokay]
shotty come long like grace, way to your boy too f-cking bait
claps got his suttin’ in the rave but true say, true say i’m good anyway
cah i got two rambos on my waist, she got a back and a pretty little face
she’s like kay when we going on a date, i’m in a bando babe; got grub on the plate

[verse 8: double lz]
skatts like freeze, a well-known booter
he’s known for rising the hoover
you don’t wanna get seen in the late night, bro set pace, got blood on his puma (splash)
picking on corn for throwing them twos up, free v jugg on the wing with tuna
feds want shh for bootings but i swear down bro’s too clued up

[verse 9: sj]
mind where you step, ofb’s are the ones that kweff
i done been in the field for a sec and i’ve ran man down till i run out of breath (run him down)
see my blade gonna rip through flesh, bleach my blade don’t leave no mess (no mess)
and that leaves no stress, that’s back to the trizz tryna see more bread (more bread)

[outro]
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- ofb lyrics

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