"Facade" lyrics

"Facade"

Gave it to God, but I ride with a rod
I can tell he wanna be me, but he trying too hard
Speaking on my name, I can tell he ain't smart
Don't nobody even trip, they know it's all a façade
Say he stepper, but he act like them broads
Say he a spinner, so we hit up them cars
Can't wait to catch 'em, I'ma rip 'em apart
Gave it to God, but I ride with a rod

You supposed to be my dawg, then why the fuck you speaking on me?
Now I know you not my dawg because of what the fuck you showed me
Niggas stabbed me in back then fake a smile right in my face
Like I'm not gon' hear about it, people tell me everything
You be moving like a snake and now ya belly getting cut up
You be acting like a cousin but be quick to call me brother
Man this money and this fame got niggas talking with a stutter
How you say you from the street but you get nervous in the gutter?

Don't come my way, my way
Don't have the time today
Tryna be a different man
But I still love my old ways

Gave it to God, but I ride with a rod
I can tell he wanna be me, but he trying too hard
Speaking on my name, I can tell he ain't smart
Don't nobody even trip, they know it's all a façade
Say he stepper, but he act like them broads
Say he a spinner, so we hit up them cars
Can't wait to catch 'em, I'ma rip 'em apart
Gave it to God, but I ride with a rod

Niggas telling me I changed, man, I really can't believe it
They be quick to call me lame 'cause the shit they not receiving
Everybody got a dream, only come true if you ain't sleeping
Niggas quick to say they're hungry, then tell you what they not eating
I can never trust a soul and that goes for anyone
Knew Georgie truckin' with this awesome new bitch, I got plenty guns
Step on the scene with the fours black and white, bitch, I got plenty ones
Curb stomp a motherfucker, wipe the check off when I'm done
Fat nigga with the hands, they a hundred grand
I would make ya jaw expand, do you hear me, fam?
Hope they get it on the cam, put it on the gram
I won't use no wrestle moves, nigga, fuck a slam

Don't come my way, my way
Don't have the time today
Tryna be a different man
But I still love my old ways

Gave it to God, but I ride with a rod
I can tell he wanna be me, but he trying too hard
Speaking on my name, I can tell he ain't smart
Don't nobody even trip, they know it's all a façade
Say he stepper, but he act like them broads
Say he a spinner, so we hit up them cars
Can't wait to catch 'em, I'ma rip 'em apart
Gave it to God, but I ride with a rod


Writer(s): Norman Payne, Christopher Frank, Morae Ruffin
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