2fake ft. m1rher & phantom Lyrics

Yeah, yeah, tired of you fake

Yeah, tired of you fake bitches blowin' up my phone, ayy

Ayy, ayy, tired of you fake bitches blowin' up my phone

Ayy, tired of you fake-, uh

Ayy, tired of you fake bitches blowin' up my phone

1911, I keep it chrome

Porche 911, drive through the store

Fuck yo ex man, that lil' boy a dork

Fuckin' that bitch so hard, I'm in court

Get yo bands up lil' bro, you don't wanna look like a joke

Got yo bitch twerkin' on the gang, she off dank, and she got a main

Hoes wanna flock to the fame

Don't get stained

These red bottoms on my feet

These Diors don't crease

Rolling up weed, keep that shit in my stream

Bitch I'm sippin' on lean, and it's pink

Got a red coat, and it's mink

I'm sippin' on dirty, never green

I'm puffin these trees, ever green

All these dracos they just for the team

I just took a xan, now I beam

I know I'm the man, what you mean?

Get my niggas drop kick 'em, Bruce Lee

Kenny Beats, I got Slump on the scene

My Glocks got identical beams

Might as well marry, got them to ring

Keep callin' my phone, leave me alone

I'ma priest up in Supreme

Drippin' designer, Chrome Hearts on my ring

Keep callin' my phone, leave me alone

On my back, my brother's Vlone

Every time I think, I pour a four

One, two, three percs, ion know

Can you really stick through the storm?

If I go, you really gon' go?

Can't stand a niggas shooters, if they on the floor

Really lose yo trust in a nigga for some dough

Paralyzed, sleeping with a ghost

Hollow tips break 'em down, watch 'em eat his bones

Huh, yeah, ayy, huh, ride around, ayy

Ride around with a bitch, named Celine

She wanna pour my lean for me

I'm skirting the beamer, I'm sippin' on pink

My eyes is low, my pockets green

Your bitch is sippin' green

Yeah, Celine, she my dime, I'll shoot the nine for her

Huh, huh, her body's exotic, huh

Her body's exotic, I'm smokin' exotic

Haha