Testi:
Fake Account

in da hood hard for real and niggas say they ball, but what they talkin is lame my whole clique strapped, and we off of the chain plus alotta niggas fake

that Bubba K blow When you got a show though, bet you can't fold Ask 2 Stoute, he know what I'm talkin 'bout Motherfuckin bank account, they say o's These

wit allstars Catch me overseas counting g'z and they hate it Mad cuz a thug nigga done made it Wanna see me down and out bank account on rip You players

who I am No introduction needed, ha-ha [Chorus] I'm the one that run the state I'm the one that get the cake I'm the one that isn't fake (I'm the one

Ludacris) Venom In the streets I'm peepin game I can't trust you, no no All up in my biness mayne I stay on the low low Say they really really fake Can

about that [B-Legit] The day room man where I'm gettin' the draws And baby tryin' to strip paint off the walls Bashed the bitch and hittin' it swell Holdin' on to her fake

of crime Speculate an insurance fraud The execution and the risk of getting caught We'd fake I'd die and get 10.000 euros on your bank account Keep hiding

so many choices to make Take a look around (Just look around) Where is your hope found (Where is it found) Is it the ones you love Or just your bank account

so sweet Kiss her feet, can't picture bein in the street So I give a fake smile, and a fake laugh Fake everything so I can keep all my cash Fake talk