No Fakes (feat. Brizzy)
Lil Yimb
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Yeah Yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah Woah Woah woah I hop in the lamb with lil brizzy, we be racing shit Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Woah woah Yeah, yeah I hop in the lamb with lil brizzy, we be racing shit And I keep my hand on the glock, cause we be toting shit And I swear my boys on the block, we be killing shit And are you real or not, Cause I’m not faking shit We keep drums and sticks, we keep hella clips Run up in your shit, uh, I might take your bitch Me and brizzy coming up, yeah, we getting rich We said f*ck you and your clique, cause we getting rich I might go f*ck on his bitch now, and she like the way that my wrist drown (Yeah) I told a f*ck boy to sit down, and I think he see that I’m lit now (Yeah) I had to go change up my background, yeah I had to go change up my background Glock with a stick, yeah, we might hit your hip now Me and Brizzy pull up, we just keeping sticks now Sticks now, we just keeping sticks now Boy you could get hit down We shoot for the clouds now We smoke by the pound now, we smoke by the pound now, we smoke by the pound now If I pull up with Brizzy no no you not safe We keep a hundred bands right in the safe Louis V everything, expensive taste We getting money, yeah we get the cake Me and lil brizzy might hop in the wraith V12 my engine if you wanna race, me and lil brizzy we get all the cake uh I hop in the lamb with lil brizzy, we be racing shit And I keep my hand on the glock, cause we be toting shit And I swear my boys on the block, we be killing shit And are you real or not, Cause I’m not faking shit We got glocks and shit, we got drums and sticks I got hella bricks, it’s enough to make you rich We drive foreign whips, we rock foreign fits Your bitch eat my dick, cause she saw my swag and shit I got my hands on a glock, it’s gon’ eat your shit We might spin your block, this a 30 clip Talk extended clips, please don’t talk your shit Your bitch on my dick, because we be spending shit I got a glock with extensions Pull up on me boy I’m reckless I stack the money like Tetris Gang full of shooters don’t test us I shoot his ass in the chest, don’t f*ck with me got a bullet proof vest, yeah Me and Lil Yimb we up next, I just be thumbing through these fucking checks, yeah Checks, yeah, I thumb through these checks, yeah Ex, yeah, I flex on my ex, yeah Me and yimb we smoke on that gas, yeah, gas yeah, we smoke on that thrax, yeah Thrax yeah, we smoke on that thrax, yeah Gas yeah we been on that pack yeah Me and brizzy steady spending cash yeah I hop in the lamb with lil brizzy, we be racing shit And I keep my hand on the glock, cause we be toting shit And I swear my boys on the block, we be killing shit And are you real or not, Cause I’m not faking shit
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Written by: Christian Hoover, Jordan Williams
Lyrics © DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"No Fakes (feat. Brizzy) Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/5152682/Lil+Yimb/No+Fakes+%28feat.+Brizzy%29>.
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