Og Grip - No Fake (feat. God-D)

That's amazing
I done been about this hustle
I done lived through some pain
I done been
Around the world in 30 seconds
And came back
It was all in my brain
And what I saw was insane
Enough to make you
Go from weed to cane
Enough to make you
Put five shots in the pistol
Pull the hammer back
And blow out your brain
Got me losing it
Think I'm losing it
Am I losing it
Yeah I'm losing it
Fuck this fake shit
And this fake bitch
And these fake niggas
I can't take this
Out my mind
I take real hate over fake love
No fake daps or no fake hugs
You know behind your back
Wanna talk crazy
But when they in your face
They don't say nothing
I'm like say something
I'm about to hold your peace
Cause that fuck shit
We don't tolerate
Have you hibernating
In the coffin
For that fuck shit
That you was talking
Facebook gangsters
And these Instagram bosses
Twitter hitters you ain't a killer
Nigga at me
I show you real life torture
You a gimmick nigga
I'm the real McCoy
And that's word
To my late daughter
Niggas play this sport
But don't know the game
It ain't all about being a baller
Motherfuckers get caught up
When them charges
Get brought up
No money for bail
You wasn't saving up
So you can't afford you a lawyer
Now you ain't the man
You a worker nigga
And you telling
On your employer
Shit get real
You don't wanna play no more
Now you know
This ain't the game for ya
I been about this hustle
(I done been about this hustle)
I done lived through some pain
(I done lived through some pain)
I done Been around the world
In thirty seconds
And came back
It was all in my brain
(It was all in my brain)
And what I saw was insane
Enough to make you
Go from weed to cane
Enough to make you
Put five shots in the pistol
Pull the hammer back
And blow out your brain
Got me losing it
Think I'm losing it
Am I losing it
Yeah I'm losing
Fuck this fake shit
And this fake bitch
And these fake niggas
I can't take this
Out my mind
Fuck fake love fake hugs
Shoulder shrugs
And mean mugs
Bad bitches with D cups
Treat us like Jesus
Fuck for
They ain't wanna
Fuck with me next door
Now they think
I got a little paper
So they gravitating towards it
They don't want me
They just want more
So in concourse
I'ma have to make sure
That I get more
Hopefully I finally get
To go back to my country
Set up shop
And help my country do more
Be great or
Let all of the criticism take more
Credence over
Everything you're made for
Cause them looser
Mutha fuckas can't see more
Hell nah
I refuse
To be a mother fucking failure
Old think in a box
Till I'm plopped in a box
Think not
I'ma meet y'all there y'all
As long as I can
Bring my niggas with me
That's down to work
And get gritty
I'm just looking
For a change y'all
Anything to motivate the city
Bring as many people with me as I can can't bring you all
No fake shit
No fake shit

Written by:
Melvin Dayee, Monroe Dunbar

Publisher:
Lyrics © TUNECORE INC, O/B/O DistroKid

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