Skip Dover & Queens Bully - Pump Fake

Behind these lines, I'm a true threat
Everything I shoot's wet
Superdry sweat suit, make the suits sweat
Sweating tears, never sweating bullets
500 rounds at my bedside
Don't let the lead fly while you're turning up
Now you turn up as the dead guy
Bagging half dykes to get by, I'm getting head, I hold my head high
Fade away fears, pull up a chair, say "Cheers" like Ted Danson
Red Aston, drive it into the water to die, praying mantis
You're too plain, I'm too fly, you can't land this
When I land mine, it's landmines
You can't pronounce the place I just landed in
Growing gas in the same dirt I've got my feet planted in
Don't slander him
You let your bitch play secretary with them Bills
That ain't at all bright, Madeleine, it's alright, plan again
Can't stand that I'm still standing, their bands abandoned
If you don't stand up for yourself, you'll never stand again
Mark my words like a rough draft, don't hand it in
Skinny dude, riding American muscle with the bad handling
And I don't wanna hear no pandering
Real life Sopranos, pulling strings like mandolins
They say I don't do enough
That's ironic 'cause they do too much
This shit ain't new to us
They never knew us, 'cause we knew too much
Rolls Royce's with the roof lit up
Everything we want, taken, yeah, that's true enough
These days, I don't know who to trust
No pump faking, we tooling up
Pot of gold, copped the same drop your reverend copped
Snotty nose, pops is locked, then the shells get dropped
You're balling 'till you up in court getting pressed for rock
Don't copy those, let 'em rock, body flows, get a box
And you really thought you belong
Pushing white boy like Scooter Braun, you was wrong
Driving around town, top down, with all your jewelry on
That's the uniform
Run up in your crib, teach you a lesson, getting my tutor on
I used to run and do what I thought was cool
'Cause the drugs just undo what I was taught in school
I'm too busy shooting my shot, I can't link with you to shoot the shit
Cant block me, they go flagrant or go New Vegas
And start the moving picks
Rather get picked off than picked on
If your ties weak, you get clipped on
Pissed off, then pissed on
So If I lift the weapon up, I'll wet him up, no getting up
Don't press your luck
I got a lot, but I don't get enough, never that
If I lose my mind, I remember that Beretta clap to get it back
Embrace me pushing the limit, and then remove me
Censor me to death, they're gonna try and Lenny Bruce me
They say I don't do enough
That's ironic 'cause they do too much
This shit ain't new to us
They never knew us, 'cause we knew too much
Rolls Royce's with the roof lit up
Everything we want, taken, yeah, that's true enough
These days, I don't know who to trust
No pump faking, we tooling up

Written by:
Skip Dover

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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