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fake$hit - yung tama lyrics

[verse 1]
ay, tv plug it in!
(uh, yuh)
dramatic ass b*tch wanna talk about sh*t that ain’t really been up on the phone
look at your vehicle, goofy ass n*gga that sh*t ain’t even got a [?] (grrah, grrah)
poppin’ like [?], my n*ggas gon’ split up them commas
getting that paper gon’ take our momma’s to bahamas
my music key just like a [?]
walk through this b*tch like i ain’t got no problem
flip a bag, flip a swisha, beat that n*gga like a kicker
she gon’ take a f*ckin’ picture, she always postin’ on instagram
music be fire, but she really needed that filter
f*ck what they talkin’ bout, f*ck what they talkin’ bout
pay for that sh*t just to take em’ out
i got the glock on my wrist for the [?]
i just been countin’ them [?]
f*ck all that fake sh*t, f*ck all your lame sh*t
most of my homies just chill with a drac’ b*tch
now i be posted on top with that fake sh*t
i see your chain, if i want it i takе it
i got some homeboy that’s scared of a crip
always too nicе in the pic’ he a b*tch
i just want make all these tracks and the music
i’m writing on paper, that lyrical sh*t
[verse 2]
i got the voice of a problematic child
make a motherf*cka’ wanna walk a mile
[?]
i got the blade on my hip and that sh*t come in style
i know this uzi gon’ come with a trial
see a f*ck n*gga and gun his ass down
(gun his ass down, gun his ass, ayy)
i spit my lyrics we goin’
why do these b*tches be hoein’
sippin’ that liquor, that lean that they pourin’
listen the beats on this track, i be flowin’
me and my boy got a dream and we [?]
i gotta cover my mission [?]
don’t come to my crib if your ass gon’ be borin’
my n*gga, we slide in the morning
i wake up and smoke off a blunt in the morning (yuh)

(ayy, in the morning n*gga, i smoke whatever the f*ck i want)
ayy, yuh (yuh)
ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy (ayy, ayy)

[verse 1]
ay, (uh, yuh)
dramatic ass b*tch wanna talk about sh*t that ain’t really been up on the phone
look at your vehicle, goofy ass n*gga that sh*t ain’t even got a [?] (grrah, grrah)
poppin’ like [?], my n*ggas gon’ split up them commas
getting that paper gon’ take our momma’s to bahamas
my music key just like a [?]
walk through this b*tch like i ain’t got no problem
flip a bag, flip a swisha, beat that n*gga like a kicker
she gon’ take a f*ckin’ picture, she always postin’ on instagram
music be fire, but she really needed that filter
f*ck what they talkin’ bout, f*ck what they talkin’ bout
pay for that sh*t just to take em’ out
i got the glock on my wrist for the [?]
i just been countin’ them [?]
f*ck all that fake sh*t, f*ck all your lame sh*t
most of my homies just chill with a drac’ b*tch
now i be posted on top with that fake sh*t
i see your chain, if i want it i take it
i got some homeboy that’s scared of a crip
always too nice in the pic’ he a b*tch
i just want make all these tracks and the music
i’m writing on paper, that lyrical sh*t
[verse 2]
i got the voice of a problematic child
make a motherf*cka’ wanna walk a mile
[?]
i got the blade on my hip and that sh*t come in style
i know this uzi gon’ come with a trial
see a f*ck n*gga and gun his ass down
(gun his ass down, gun his ass, ayy)
i spit my lyrics we goin’
why do these b*tches be hoein’
sippin’ that liquor, that lean that they pourin’
listen the beats on this track, i be flowin’
me and my boy got a dream and we [?]
i gotta cover my mission [?]
don’t come to my crib if your ass gon’ be borin’
my n*gga, we slide in the morning
i wake up and smoke off a blunt in the morning (yuh)

[outro]
(ayy, in the morning n*gga, i smoke whatever the f*ck i want)

- yung tama lyrics

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