Тексты песен по запросу:
Fake Account

nowhere, no time soon Remember high noon, last thing he heard was BOOM Can I gets some room, or do I have to make me a path break you in half, fake

I anit messing with you can'ts, Someone can do negro, A real-life California hero, About six zeros at the end of the number in my bank account, Nigga

Ha my nigga Politics. Ha my nigga Politics. Ha my nigga Politics. Ha my nigga [Royce Da 5'9"] Seven years and countin, I've been accounting For unaccountable rap problems 'Cause accountant

loud, but I ain't low Wait for the day that Bubba can't blow And get them fo?sho, bitch can?t blow S.V. style, you know what I?m talking about Mo?fucking bank account

you to be my only wife We didn't make it, I couldn't take it I tried to square up, it's too hard I couldn't fake it And now I see why, since I was knee

or more Talking about shit you never did before You know my macking is cracking, all of the time 24-7 Spitting playboy rhymes I got a serious grind and it sure ain't fake

bill collectors, Like Jehovah's Witness when they showed up at your door at Christmas, Was broke as dishes, Tryna let it go Hit the club, She drop it low Lower than my credit score, Account

It's all what we need More love, less hate, more real, less fake More grind, less wishin' Less stuntin', more fame, less talkin', more change Less rushin

Who's the kid up in the green Land? Me and the RZA connect, blow a fuse, you lose Half-ass crews get demolished and bruised Fake be frontin', hourglass