FATES/FAKES Lyrics

Say less then I made checks

Hid in the bag on top so I'm feelin' the drag

Don't talk so the bitch been a little bit mad

Drop down drop drop down tits

Blow the mist while I sit in the back

Drop shit, too sick, you get put in a bag (uh)

Don't diss while I'm gettin' the cat (uh uh)

While I'm gettin' the cat (uh uh)

I've been spendin' the racks

Drop that shot then i'm spinnin' the bottle (dah)

Drop top got me spinnin' a model

Shot shots with the switch I be seein' 'em waddle

Go high best get a taste of the dough

I said better stick on your toes, right?

Testin my destiny

O's and the eighths and the five-star place in it

Bitch is broke tragic, dope addict, up the pole active

Still up like the attic lookin' down at bro static

Grow phallus hittin' up that bitch with no chances

Maybe try being an original dick

Got that tall pipe he sinnin' on his kin 'cus bro fakes

You really trippin if you think i'm gonna take shit

I'll break any fuckin thing in my way

Rip with my cadence a pussy get tasted

I been winnin at it at the end of my day

I just did a workout I've been watchin my weight

Pushin" up these bitches I've been pushin' my payments

I just got another fuckin magazine placement

I got nobody that'll run on my show

Kush'll never cell you he go split like mitosis

Fuckin with the man I'll wet the strip with my pole