Ain't What You Call Em Fakes

I be all up In my thoughts, i be fucking with my head
If a goofy get to dissin', 2-2-3 knock of his dreads
Type of money bet they'll hop out, light your body like a flick
Go on live and show the money that you claiming in you're pics

Hope this perky that I'm taking ain't what you call them fakes
But I'm rocking with my people I'm never fucking with no jakes
Only time you see me running if the police take the bait
But i'm always on the road but somehow I'm always late

But I know this bitch delou' but oh well she likes the move
Matter fact, what is your bank is it chase?
Lately I've been feeling like the feds tryna get me
But I got like 20 names, swear to god I'll leave no trace
How you lost up in a drought? but you ain't make it out the ditch

I can say the same shit over and over and not give a fuck
Write up in a script, bet you giving up that rollie
Was bad as fuck up in the 8th almost got kicked out
I be all up In my thoughts, i be fucking with my head
If a goofy get to dissin, 2-2-3 knock of his dreads

Type of money bet they'll hop out, light your body like a flick
Go on live amd show the money that you claiming in you're pics
Hope this perky that I'm taking ain't what you call them fakes
But I'm rocking with my people I'm never fucking with no jakes
Only time you see me running if the police take the bait
But i'm always on the road but somehow I'm always late



Credits
Writer(s): John Calderon Sosa
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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