Fan

Tell the truth
You niggas ran
Wen it hit the fan
You ain't who you say you was
Boy you ain't my man
I was treatin you
Like my fam
But you just a fan
I'ma keep shyt in rotation
Like a fuckin fan
Iceman on my hand
I don't need a fan
Stand to close
Might get a tan
Baby need a fan
Trappin out the mini van
Tryin not to get jammed
Jus a young hot nigga
Damn I need a fan

Year 09 shades from 99
I been on the grind
Feinds standin outside
In lines
Mama think I lost my mind
I was told don't show my ass
Designer jeans
On my behind
I been goin hella hard
Since I was a lil knee high
Caprice Classic 88
Cleaner den a fade away
I couldnt even
Touch da pedal
I ain't grow til 12th grade
We be dirty mudd
Pourin up
The greatest
Cassius Clay
Bombayee Ali
The way my lawyer
Beat the case
I just want the top
Lil mama
Heard that kitty
Too friendly
Made a hunnit bands
In high school
Ain't no wat to do wit it
I can show you how to
Whip a brick
Jus give me 2 minutes
He gone charge you three
Come shop wit me
I do ya 2 fifty

Tell the truth
You niggas ran
Wen it hit da fan
You ain't who you say you was
Boy you ain't my man
I was treatin you
Like my fam
But you just a fan
I'ma keep shyt in rotation
Like a fuckin fan
Iceman on my hand
I don't need a fan
Stand to close
Might get a tan
Baby need a fan
Trappin out the mini van
Tryin not to get jammed
Jus a young hot nigga
Damn I need a fan



Credits
Writer(s): Christopher Miller
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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