{"product_id":"the-realist","title":"The Realist","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eStyles:\u003c\/strong\u003e 90s West Coast Hip Hop · Boom Bap · Gangsta Rap · West Coast Hip Hop\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eProduction:\u003c\/strong\u003e Live bassline · Gritty drums · Melancholic piano chord progression · Soulful female background vocals · Cinematic orchestration · 85 BPM · Emotional · Raw\u003c\/p\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e[Spoken Intro — Deep, authoritative, legendary vocal style]\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cbr\u003e(Heavy, clean drum break loops. A low, rolling G-Funk bassline drops in)\u003cbr\u003eYeah... 1-2, mic check.\u003cbr\u003eYou are now listening to the realist.\u003cbr\u003eFrom the West Coast trenches to the Brooklyn blocks.\u003cbr\u003eWe bringing that raw, unfiltered realness.\u003cbr\u003eTurn the levels up in the headphones... yeah, just like that.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e[Verse 1 — 90s West Coast style, angry, aggressive, barking delivery]\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cbr\u003eStep the hell back when I step in the room (Westside til I die)\u003cbr\u003eBringing that street-level sonic-ass boom, (sonic boom motherfucker)\u003cbr\u003eThey wanna talk about peace in the city in cities that never sleep,\u003cbr\u003eWhile cops on the beat, I'm in the alleys looking gritty.\u003cbr\u003eThe lyrical psycho, straight out the gutter\u003cbr\u003eSpitting that venom that make the politicians stutter,\u003cbr\u003eYou want a fairytale, go watch a Cinderella\u003cbr\u003eI'm dropping shit like pigeons,\u003cbr\u003eI ain't no sell-out, I'm breaking the law\u003cbr\u003eAn AK-47 when I flow the raw street funk, (Street styles, real funk punk)\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e[Verse 2 — 90s style, smooth criminal, OG pimp cadence, 80s gangsta flow]\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cbr\u003e(Beat switches slightly, adding an old-school synth whine)\u003cbr\u003eYeah... check the game from an old-school mack (I'm The Mac Daddy)\u003cbr\u003eSyringe on the pavement, chalk out body, overdosing on cocaine,\u003cbr\u003eI don't talk about the blocks unless I lived in the crime,\u003cbr\u003eLike gangsters chilling smoking cigars in Cuba, (And Getting High on the sand)\u003cbr\u003eRhymes paid the bills, I keep my eyes on the prize, while my hand is on the scale.\u003cbr\u003ePlayer-haters wanna talk but they don't know the code\u003cbr\u003eI'm an original baller raised out the danger zone,\u003cbr\u003eNow back up, little homie, let the master speak,\u003cbr\u003eBefore you end up a statistic by the end of the week.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e[Chorus — Group Chant, anthem style, heavy and loud]\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis is the message they tried to erase,\u003cbr\u003eSpitting what's real, right in front of their face,\u003cbr\u003eFrom the East to the West, yeah,\u003cbr\u003eTurn the music up loud,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e[Verse 3 — Slow, heavy multi-syllable pocket, smooth mack style]\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cbr\u003e(Beat switches to a heavy, dusty Brooklyn boom-bap loop)\u003cbr\u003eUh... yeah... check it.\u003cbr\u003eKick in the door, rocking designer suits, (You hear me fool)\u003cbr\u003eFlowing that expensive rap for the rich and the poor.\u003cbr\u003eSipping on champagne, counting up the green,\u003cbr\u003eThe smoothest heavy-hitter that you've ever damn seen,\u003cbr\u003eChronically iconic, I got multi-syllables, (Heavy Hitters)\u003cbr\u003eI put the targets on the market just to make a quick profit.\u003cbr\u003eCozy in the crib while you stuck in the rain,\u003cbr\u003eA lyrical Picasso painting pictures of pain,\u003cbr\u003eRelax and take notes while I smoke on some weed,\u003cbr\u003eI turn an amateur rapper (You fucking chumps,) into standard ground beef. Uh.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e[Verse 4 — Passionate, soulful, revolutionary, high-energy style]\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cbr\u003e(Beat adds a dramatic, melancholy piano loop)\u003cbr\u003eBut they don't hear me though, they rather see a brother dead,\u003cbr\u003eWith a bullet in my back and a bullet in my head,\u003cbr\u003eI'm talking bout the young Gee's in the dirt,\u003cbr\u003eTrying to find a little healing through the struggle,\u003cbr\u003eThey judge a book by the cover, put my life in a cell (Thug Life,)\u003cbr\u003eBut a revolutionist never rots in a hell,\u003cbr\u003eI keep my nine close, while I'm fighting the storm\u003cbr\u003ePouring liquor on the curb for the homies till the pavement gets warm.\u003cbr\u003eOnly God can judge (Only God) the path that I take,\u003cbr\u003eI'm a soldier, sacrifice my life so you can make homemade movies,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e[Verse 5 — Paranoid, breathless, venomous, ultra-aggressive style]\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cbr\u003e(Tempo feels faster, vocal delivery gets angry and urgent)\u003cbr\u003eWatch out, the ghost of Makaveli (Makaveli) is in the house tonight,\u003cbr\u003eI'm catching enemies tripping over their own lyrics,\u003cbr\u003eThey just studio emcee's, a bunch of cowardly pussies, (mother fucking pussies)\u003cbr\u003eI'm an Outlaw chief, can you relate to the paranoia inside of my brain,\u003cbr\u003eThe paparazzi and the feds trying to drive me insane,\u003cbr\u003eNo exiting from the game, yeah, who's ready for war\u003cbr\u003eLines and bars till you hit the damn floor,\u003cbr\u003eThug Life till I die (westside)\u003cbr\u003eWestside! Face your destiny tonight!\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e[Chorus — Group Chant, anthem style, heavy and loud]\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis is the message they tried to erase,\u003cbr\u003eSpitting what's real, right in front of their face,\u003cbr\u003eFrom the East to the West, yeah,\u003cbr\u003eTurn the music up loud,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e[Spoken Outro — Fading out over the G-Funk synth]\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cbr\u003e(Beat strips down to just the bassline and the high-pitched synth)\u003cbr\u003eYeah. History made right here.\u003cbr\u003eYou can't duplicate the soul.\u003cbr\u003eYou can't replicate the streets.\u003cbr\u003eEast Coast, West Coast... it's all one empire.\u003cbr\u003eRest in peace to the fallen soldiers.\u003cbr\u003eKeep it locked... we out.\u003cbr\u003e(The track fades out with deep echo on \"we out\")\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"AKForty7","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46708677181639,"sku":null,"price":1.99,"currency_code":"NZD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0775\/1463\/7511\/files\/the-realist-akforty7-gangsta-rap-cover.png?v=1782700895","url":"https:\/\/spectamusic.com\/products\/the-realist","provider":"S.P.E.C.T.A ENTERTAINMENT","version":"1.0","type":"link"}