Kill Me

All the fake, all the fake love
Mm, mm (everything until dawn)
Yeah, yeah (Helluva made this beat, baby)
All the fake love, all the fake love
Never gettin' to the real me (word around the hood)
Heard these niggas tryna kill me (word around the hood)

All the fake love never gettin' to the real me
Word around the hood, frenemies is tryna kill me
Remember we was sleepin' at the fiends', broke and 50
Then we started steppin', ridin' with me, I was guilty
How you let the fame turn you around?
How I let this money turn the closest ones against me?
Seen too many bodies on the ground
No sleepovers, but we used to spend the night without permission

Heard you stand on business on the block (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Bendin' corners in my cubicle, somebody gon' get popped
If you don't put in work, you gettin' dropped
You was the type to get promoted every time we did a job
Now you squeeze 'cause a nigga rich, jealous of that bitch
Get him wrapped, let that chopper spit, steady sendin' hits
Fuck a bitch, had nowhere to live, I was on my dick
When I had nowhere to go, you invited me to your crib

In and out of town, you mostly trappin' for attention
When I was out of town, I had them rappers in my mentions
I just supply 'em with the blow and all that drank that they would sip then
'Cause I sold it for the low 'cause I was on a different mission
Favor for a favor, fuck the paper, send the verses
They'd be like, "I ain't know you rap, I thought you just be out here murkin'"
Workin', in and out of town, that shit was urgent
I start to notice all the looks that you was givin', caught you lurkin'

All the fake love never gettin' to the real me
Word around the hood, frenemies is tryna kill me
Remember we was sleepin' at the fiends', broke and 50
Then we started steppin', ridin' with me, I was guilty
How you let the fame turn you around?
How I let this money turn the closest ones against me?
Seen too many bodies on the ground
No sleepovers, but we used to spend the night without permission

Jealousy, jealousy, yeah
Remember you were tellin' me, yeah
Friends before the felonies, yeah
I feel like you were tellin' me, yeah
Money make the steppers start to backtrack, yeah
Ain't the blade, but this the block where all the macks at, yeah
Had to do it easy, quick just to smack shit, yeah
Like a few of these licks, now I'm at your neck, yeah

Billy Mays shit, First 48 shit
Raise the murder rate shit
This a Grape shit
Where we spray shit
Pat a nigga down like a fresh pair of them Bapes, bitch
Too much on my plate, bitch

All the fake love never gettin' to the real me
Word around the hood, frenemies is tryna kill me
Remember we was sleepin' at the fiends', broke and filthy
Then we started steppin', ridin' with me, I was guilty
How you let the fame turn you around?
How I let this money turn the closest ones against me?
Seen too many bodies on the ground
No sleepovers, but we used to spend the night without permission

Yeah, yeah, yeah



Credits
Writer(s): Martin Mccurtis, Jason Jamal Jackson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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