Pump Fake - Radio Edit

Behind these lines, I'm a true threat
Everything I shoot's wet
Superdry sweatsuit, make the suits sweat
Sweatin' tears, never sweatin' bullets, 500 rounds at my bedside
Don't let the lead fly while you're turning up
Now you turn up as the dead guy
Baggin' half d**** to get by, I'm gettin' head, I hold my head high
Fade away fears, pull up a chair, say "Cheers" like Ted Danson
Red Aston, drive it into the water to die, praying mantis
You're too plain, I'm too fly, you can't land this, when I land mine, it's landmines
You can't pronounce the place I just landed in
Growing gas in the same dirt I've got my feet planted in, don't slander him
You let your b**** play secretary with them Bills, that ain't at all bright, Madeleine
It's alright, plan again
Can't stand that I'm still standing, their bands abandoned
If you don't stand up for yourself, you'll never stand again
Mark my words like a rough draft, don't hand it in
Skinny dude, ridin' American muscle with the bad handling
And I don't wanna hear no pandering
Real life Sopranos, pullin' strings like mandolins

They say I don't do enough
That's ironic 'cause they do too much
This s*** ain't new to us
They never knew us, 'cause we knew too much
Rolls Royce's with the roof lit up
Everything we want, taken, yeah, that's true enough
These days, I don't know who to trust
No pump fakin', we toolin' up

Pot of gold, copped the same drop your reverend copped
Snotty nose, pops is locked, then the shells get dropped
You ballin', 'till you up in court getting pressed for rock
Don't copy those, let 'em rock, body flows, get a box
And you really thought you belong, pushin' white boy like Scooter Braun, you was wrong
Drivin' around town, top down, with all your jewelry on, that's the uniform
Run up in your crib, teach you a lesson, gettin' my tutor on
I used to run and do what I thought was cool
'Cause the drugs just undo what I was taught in school
I'm too busy shooting my shot, I can't link with you to shoot the s***
Cant block me, they go flagrant or go New Vegas, and start the moving picks
Rather get picked off than picked on
If your ties weak, you get clipped on
Pissed off, then pissed on
So If I lift the weapon up, I'll wet him up, no gettin' up, don't press your luck
I got a lot, but I don't get enough, never that
If I lose my mind, I remember that Beretta clap to get it back
Embrace me pushing the limit, and then remove me
Censor me to death, they gon' try and Lenny Bruce me

They say I don't do enough
That's ironic 'cause they do too much
This s*** ain't new to us
They never knew us, 'cause we knew too much
Rolls Royce's with the roof lit up
Everything we want, taken, yeah, that's true enough
These days, I don't know who to trust
No pump fakin', we toolin' up



Credits
Writer(s): Skip Dover
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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