Текст песни Fakin' - Thi'sl , Lecrae
I'm
riding
round
and
I'm
getting'
it;
they
riding
round
pretendin'
I
been
had
it,
I
been
done,
I
promise
that
it's
all
empty
They
say
they
ridin'
Bugatti's,
man,
put
some
babies
through
college
Quit
tryna'
act
like
the
trap
is
cool,
'cause
we
tired
hearin'
that
garbage
Hey,
bags
of
white,
pints
of
lean,
I
been
on
dope
boys
since
a
teen
But
this
ain't
what
we
meant
to
be,
and
y'all
don't
make
no
sense
to
me
You
pump
fakin',
ain't
shootin',
ain't
killin,
ain't
doin'
Half
them
thangs
you
say
you
doin',
but
116
we
stay
true
an'
Ain't
dope
dealin',
ain't
Po
pimpin',
talkin'
'bout
my
own
folk
killin'
We
on
that
Jesus
soul
healin',
so
serious,
gorillas
Wild
ain't
we,
can't
tame
us,
been
changed,
can't
change
us
1:
16
– You
can't
shame
us.
Live
that
truth;
you
can't
blame
us
I
heard
him
say
he
bought
the
block
In
his
song
he
say
he
gansta'
but
he
not
Say
he
makin'
money,
cashin'
big
checks
While
his
chain
leavin'
green
on
his
neck
I'm
not
impressed
So
I
guess
that
make
you,
yes
that
make
you
That
make
you
a
faker!
He
was
all
juiced
up,
thought
he
was
Tupac
'Til
'dem
boys
caught
him,
hit
him
with
them
two
shots
Now,
he
in
the
station
singin'
like
he
T-Pain
The
bullets
made
him
lean,
now
I
guess
he's
2 Chains
He
bought
that
big-league
cannon,
wrapped
it
'round
a
300
Now
matter
how
you
put
it,
boy,
that's
still
a
300
Stop
that
fakin'
and
the
flatchin'
cut
it
off
Frontin'
like
your
paper
longer
than
the
Power
Ball
He
think
he
Scarface,
guess
he
ain't
seen
the
movie
Keep
on
fakin'
'til
you
face
down
in
a
Jacuzzi
With
some
killas
in
you
room
with
some
real
guns
That
don't
make
noise
and
ain't
plastic
but
they
real
guns
Real
recognize
real;
introduce
ya'
self
Careful
with
that
cannon
boy;
you
might
just
shoot
ya'
self
Somebody
wake
em',
tell
em'
to
stop
fakin'
Before
they
end
up
lyin'
in
the
woods
buck
naked
These
killas
fulla'
them
demons,
while
you
pretendin'
you
Scarface
You
ain't
really
no
ghetto
boy,
why
you
fakin'
that
hard
face?
That
just
made
him
furious;
somebody
call
Fishburne
Tell
these
boys
in
the
hood
40
cal
hits
burn
And
hell
burns
hotter,
I
turn
to
the
Father
I
prayin',
"Lord
forgive
em'
'cause
they
lyin'
like
Mufasa
They
got
these
eight'
graders
with
they
eyes
on
a
choppa
I
pray
the
Lord
save
'em
'fo
He
drop
'em
and
make
'em
stop
it
I
heard
him
say
he
bought
the
block
In
his
song
he
say
he
gansta'
but
he
not
Say
he
makin'
money,
cashin'
big
checks
While
his
chain
leavin'
green
on
his
neck
I'm
not
impressed
1 The Drop (Intro)
2 Gravity
3 Walk with Me (feat. Novel)
4 Free from It All (feat. Mathai)
5 Falling Down (feat. Trip Lee & Swoope)
6 Falling Down
7 Fakin'
8 Violence
9 Mayday
10 Confe$$Ions
11 Buttons
12 Power Trip
13 Power Trip
14 Lord Have Mercy
15 I Know
16 Tell the World (feat. Mali Music)
17 Lucky Ones (feat. Rudy Currence)
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