Fayke (feat. SwimmingSlug)

Fuck this fake shit
Gotta hundred hating bitches full of plastic
Trynna make it just like me
I'm setting in stone I gotta have it
A rapper lifestyle so fake huh
Rapping about being real make ya fake
Rapping bout the fake ya real
Fuck the game and you deep
See when I sleep and I dream
I dream about the weak
And the pain I feel feels so real
Like i really am bleeding there too
Like i really am keeping it real
Not just looking for a deal
That's some shit I really do need
And yes I do bleed
I am human but I mean
I get why you'd ask that
I can't stand these whack trappers
Fuck yall I might tat that
Y'all faker than the sand ya see at the beach
I care that's why I want you to hear what I say when I speak
And when the days turn to weeks
I want you to remember this shit for real
Forget it I might just kill
Yeah
I am against taking pills
Yeah
How about making mills?
Uh
I'd rather chase a thrill
Yeah
Whether this my worst or best verse yet
I'm defending it wearing my heart on my sleeve
This beat making it harder to breath
I might just fall to my knees
But I'm never ever praying for shit
Cos it's all fake to me
Maybe come judgement day I'll be
Sentenced to roam hell
But I deserve it
Everything I do is selfish
Hell will fit me perfectly
I can't ignore the nerd in me
Fuck you you murmer under your breath
Cos I'm doing this shit with no connect
I got no fucks to give but your bitch can still get it
That's the oldest trick
You feeling hopeless yet?

Fuck this fake shit
Never been raised to just wait to make it
Every other day gotta chase the faces
When can I stray from the way that's laced with
Traps and obstacles test the basics
If traps the obstacle, guess I'll take it
Stacking objects' ll stress and strain this
Racks and bottles impress the same bitches
But it's not hoes I'm after
The feeling of being the kid that is killing this shit
With the words that are spilling, I spit
For the thrill of this shit
No telling who want me to quit
Never could listen to the snitches or snakes
That are roaming the grass or the reeds by the lake
While I'm sitting in class
I'm imagining days when
I ain't judged to pass by my marks or my grades
Boy imma be great
Mark my words, yeah take note
Most ya'll speak the same note
Yet I don't deserve fame, no?
Deserve it as much as the next
I am no worse than the best
In fact imma murder the rest
Tattoo these words on my chest
I "better be wearing a vest"?
Dawg, I ain't worried bout threats
Ain't nervous the last time I checked
Man I have returned from the dead
Only back to spit flames on the wack rappers with big chains
The trash trappers with lil names who act gangsta to fill claims
That they make themselves over beats that
They never could've made themselves
Ain't unique so I never could explain they sales
Feel the heat as I bake a dozen lame ass frails
Hear their screams as I lead the fucking wave as well
Even Satan yells that I'm raising hell