Faded

Run my fade, run my fade, run my fade, bitch
I stay isolated 'cause you talkin' fake shit
Bitch, I stay, bitch, I stay, bitch, I stay lit
I don't know what's in my belt buckle, a lot of shit
Run my fade, run my fade, run my fade, bitch
I stay isolated 'cause you talkin' fake shit
Bitch, I stay, bitch, I stay, bitch, I stay lit
I don't know what's in my belt buckle, a lot of shit

I been thinkin' 'bout some shit you couldn't dream about
I'ma run the money up, this route is trappin' loud
I came up through the fuckin' piss, the fuck you talkin' 'bout?
And now I'm ready for revenge (The fuck, you runnin' now?)

Fuck outta my way, them bullets to yo' brain
[?] with gang
We don't do it the same, we don't fuck with the lames
We only on the gang shit, steady mobbin' all day

Pulled up with the rage, hop out, disintegrate
Bitch, I'm off the leash, rip the chains, I can't be tamed
Rusty blade got blood up on it, I slit my wrist
You with gang, I slide up on 'em, unload the clip
[?] toxic, all black in the tar pits
Jaw clenched, [?] your bitch like, "Crawl, bitch"
Chopsticks, like Jackie Chan, bitch, I chop shit
Three-six, wreak havoc inside the moshpit

Swing this fist, split, break ribs
Swing this fist, split, break ribs
Swing this fist, split, break ribs
Swing this fist, split, break ribs



Credits
Writer(s): Jonathan Robert Whitmer
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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