Pump Fake (feat. Playboi Carti)

I know you heard all about me
See me on TV, Instagram, bitch, I'm poppin' (bitch, I'm poppin')
Cash Carti, Cash Carti, my lane, no stoppin'
Niggas sneak diss and they tryna plot me
Fuck 'em, fuck 'em, find they hoes and fuck 'em

Fuck 'em, fuck 'em, find they hoes and fuck
Fuck 'em then dump 'em then dump 'em
I don't give no fucks, yeah
Yeah, I feel like Donald Trump now
I don't give a fuck, yeah
Damn, okay, cool

Pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh
Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh
Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah
Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah
Okay, cool, yeah

Pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh
Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh
Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah
Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah

Pump-fake
Fuck that bitch, I pass her to my brodie, yeah
Pump-fake
Fuck her then I pass her to my brodie, yeah
Pump-fake
I don't need no bitch, I got another one
Pump-fake
I don't give a fuck, I got another one

Yeah, yeah, yeah, with my niggas off the Xans
We up at Follies throwin' bands
And all my niggas 'bout that action, yeah
Fuckin' what you talkin' bout?
That 29-hundred niggas 'bout
Green flax in a fuckin' pouch
Niggas know what we fuckin' 'bout

Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya, all these niggas wanna bite my swag
Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya, every time your bitch, she 'bout this shit
Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya, she don't talk, she like ya-ya pimp
Yung Carti that fuckin' pimp
Bitch, I walk with a fuckin' limp
Rest in peace Pimp C, my nigga
Rest in peace Pimp C, my nigga

Yung Cash Carti that young nigga
Is that young nigga
Shakes and shoppin' sprees, nigga
Up in fuckin' London, nigga
Up in fuckin' Paris, nigga
Two cups, I ain't sharin', nigga
Oh, I need a bag

I need a bitch with an ass
No attitude, just smash, yeah
Yung Carti that nigga
Steal my swag, steal my swag
Swag-surfin' on the track
Hold up, let me get that back, oh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh
Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh
Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah
Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah
Okay, cool, yeah

Pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh
Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh
Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah
Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah

Hold up, bitches on my dick
For what? For what?
Niggas wanna see me dead
Nigga, for what?
I got clout, I got clout
Hoes tryna give me mouth
Boy, I pull them triggers out
We don't really run our mouth

I'm from Zone three, Zone three
13, skate town with the bling
You know how I'm comin', bitch
Oh-ah
Know how I'm comin', bitch
Pull them dirty sticks

And we movin' dirty sticks with the shit
Cash Carti got a bag
Got a Louis bag, but I put some Gucci in that bag
Nigga fuck what you talkin' bout
All that shit you got
Yung Carti been copped or been had, nigga, I'm hot

Nigga, I'm hot
Young, hot but I'm cool, yeah
Bad bitch, she a fool, yeah
Cash Carti, I cool y'all
But all my niggas, they bool, yeah

Niggas yellin' like bool, yeah
Hop in the bank like bool, yeah
Hop in the ships like bool, yeah
Hop in sets like bool, yeah

Pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh
Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh
Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah
Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah

Pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh
Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh
Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah
Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah (fuck SpaceGhostPurrp A$AP)

Damn