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Correct Is It Real (My Mind Still Playin' Tricks On Me) Lyrics
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Artists: W
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Willie D
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Correct Is It Real (My Mind Still Playin' Tricks On Me)
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Chorus: Is it fiction, is it fact? Is it fake or reality? All I know for sure Is my mind's still playing tricks on me Verse 1: Here I go again, the same old shit My mind is still playing tricks Cause today when I left my residence I heard we had a new black president And he wasn't no Uncle Tom Rudy poof stankin' fetch house nigga scum And white folks wasn't planning to murder him kid Cause they voted for him just like the blacks did And this might sound reckless But I got a loan on a brand new Lexus in Texas If I'm lying I'm dying, everybody was color blind Went to church and I gotta admit Walked in, didn't see one hypocrite It appeared every single soul was reached Cause the pastor practiced what he preached Then I woke up in a cold sweat homie My mind's still playing tricks on me Chorus Verse 2: I took a cold shower and I got dressed It's Christmas so I gotta look my best Everybody going to my dear house That's my grandmother, and she the boss As I drove up in my low I saw cars on both sides of the road Then I started saying 'what's up' to relatives That I hadn't seen in years Walked up to grandma, and gave her a big smack And she gave me one back She said "there's plenty of food, Willie Help yourself when you get into the mood" I marked on the paper As my man slammed bones on the domino table The women played cards And the children were playing in the front yard It was getting late so I had to break But yo, not before I ate And gave grandma a goodbye kiss, nigga I reached to hug her, but I couldn't feel her Fell to the ground and I snapped holmes Looked up, and saw a bunch of headstones My grandma's name was on plot 11 Now I remember, she died in '87 It wasn't close to Christmas or Halloween I was at the cemetery having a daydream And that's real fucked up, homie My mind's still playing tricks on me Chorus Verse 3: I used to make big money, drive big cars Everybody know me, the fool who left the Geto Boys Thought I could be a bigger nigga by going solo But my record sales said no no So did concert promoters and magazines I went back to eating rice and lima beans No more fancy restaurants And I hadn't seen the mall in months Now why would I leave the group Just when it's starting to blow up, troop I got tired of being famous, black When my motherfucking pockets didn't reflect that I need help before I go left Cause I'm starting to second guess myself I know I can't have a nigga fucking me But I want to get back with the group, gee Now if you believe that shit, duke Your mind's playing tricks on you, too Chorus Is it real (5x)
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