Fakin’ (DJ Official Remix) lyrics

by

Diddy


[Intro: Lecrae]
Fakin', fakin'

[Hook: Lecrae] (x2)
Pump fakin’, I ain't shootin’
I ain't killin, I ain't doin’
Half them things you say you doin’
But 116 we stay true and they

[Verse 1: Lecrae]
I'm ridin' around and I’m getting’ it, they ridin' 'round pretendin’
I been had it, I been done, and I promise that it's all empty
They say they ridin’ Bugatti's
Man, put some babies through college
Quit tryna’ act like the trap is cool, ‘cause we tired of hearin’ that garbage
Hey, bags of white, pints of lean
I been on dope boys since a teen
But this ain't what we meant to be, and y'all don't make no sense to me
You pump fakin’, ain't shootin’, ain't killin, ain't doin’
Half them thangs you say you doin’, but 116 we stay true and they
Dope dealin’, ain't Po pimpin’
Talkin’ ‘bout my own folk killin’
We on that Jesus soul healin’, so serious, gorillas
Wild ain’t we, can't tame us
Been changed, can’t change us
116, you can’t shame us
Live that truth, you can't blame us
(I heard 'em...)
[Hook] (x2)

[Verse 2: Thi’sl]
He was all juiced up, thought he was 2Pac
‘Til ‘them boys caught him, hit him with them two shots
Now he in the station singin’ like he T-Pain
The bullets made him lean, now I guess he 2 Chainz
He bought that bentley kit and wrapped it ‘round a 300
Now matter how you put it, boy, that’s still a 300
Stop that fakin’ and the flatchin’ dawg, cut it off
Frontin’ like your paper longer than the Power Ball
He think he Scarface, guess he ain’t seen the movie
(Okay you want to play with us, ok, say hello to my little friend!)
Keep on fakin’ ‘til you face down in a Jacuzzi
With some killas in you room with some real guns
That don’t make noise when they blast it but they real guns

[Hook] (x2)

[Verse 3: Lecrae]
Real recognize real, introduce yourself
Careful with that cannon boy, you might just shoot your self
Somebody wake em’, tell em’ to stop fakin’
Before they end up lyin’ in the woods butt naked
These killas full of them demons, while you pretendin’ you Scarface
You ain't really no ghetto boy, why you fakin’ that hard face?
That just made him furious, somebody call Fishburne
Tell these boys in the hood 40 cal hits burn
And hell burns hotter, I turn to the Father
I'm prayin’, “Lord forgive em’ ‘cause they lyin’ like Mufasa"
They got these eighth graders with they eyes on a choppa
I pray the Lord save ‘em ‘fo He drop ‘em and make ‘em stop it
[Hook] (x2)
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net