Thefakes Lyrics

Bitch I'm back fourth quarter, thirteen seconds left

I just left for New York need some Nikes when I step

I'm in coach on the flight and you just overslept

A bitch that can't dress is a girl that won't impress

Eighteen years old Seventeen opportunities

Can't be fucking on bitches that are constantly new to me

You do this for yourself I do this for community

I'm buying real estate when you're buying your jewelry

I stand tall on my money, tall on my business

Tall on three hoes like they're ready for Christmas

You cannot keep talking with your mental illness

You say that you're with it until you're a witness

Money and women thats where my life took me

All these distractions you cannot confuse me

She's trying to reach, she's been trying to move me

A muse without pretty eyes is a goofy

Aye, she never knows what she wants

She lets feelings control all her thoughts

I sit up straight and bring my applause

They tell me don't lose yourself in these broads

But I did, and I'll do it again I'll spin it

I've officially lost my vision

Lay down some mental health and some wisdom

(some wisdom?) yes bitch some wisdom

When's the last time your mouth was closed and just listened?

Maybe on the flight back from Leeds England

Where would you be without your commission?

(What's commission?) yeah bitch that did it

If you a real ass dude put your motherfucking hands up

Really real bitches put your motherfucking hands up

Real ass friends put your motherfucking hands up

Real-ass rappers put your motherfucking hands up

I hate the fakes

Get rid of the fakes

I can't talk to the fakes

Bitch you're more than just fake

Oh, you want the real?

Give you something that's real?

Something left that's ideal?

Your fake love I can't feel

I've been cruising slowly down the 101 just to see your bitch

Hit the steam room then count up about a quarter inch

Still all up on my Insta like I care if you post pics with him

Just give me loyalty and I know that you'll still be the one to, switch

Shit all that stuttering you're wrapping a cacophony

Talk shit and you'll be wrapped inside a coffin G

Understand these motherfuckers could never be mocking me

I got rhymes like dimes and I'm selling them like DOOM did

Three more hits, my bad I guess the flume's dead

No soy pendejo, mas bin yo soy tremendo

Mi dicen busca el mejor y me veo a le espejo

I hate the fakes

Get rid of the fakes

I can't talk to the fakes

Bitch you're more than just fake

Oh, you want the real?

Give you something that's real?

Something left that's ideal?

Your fake love I can't feel