"FRAUD" lyrics

Yeah

You know I get it
Steppin outside if you with it

Fuck w me, boy
I'll have you trippin

I'm fitted

Talkin that shit through da phone
Come get it

Fraud bitch owned
Just know that I'm livid

Short lil shit
You fried

Smokin on a pack
Fuck that shit

Eat this nine

Runnin up racks
That's day n night

You livin w ya mama
Oooo, son, I'm crine

Talkin bout u the guy
Makin all this bread you spend

Boy, it's just rye

Just know you lie
So kneel down, son, bow your head

Then drink this wine

God ain't make you right
Ain't no better, but Lord

Please fix his height

Tweakin out
That's fine

But tinker w my shit
Ain't it

My switch gon fly

Oooo ooo oooo

Boy a fraud though
Just how it is

Oooo ooo oooo

I ain't make the rules
Son, you ain't legit

Oooo ooo oooo

Callin my phone up
Actin all pissed

Oooo ooo oooo

Boy just mad that
He ain't got my bitch

I cannot fuck wit you
Why you left em for dead?
You're not bulletproof

They done taught you the game
Now you snake em too

All that pussy shit
Lookin like Loony Toons

Makin goofy moves
You could never be up

Snaked out your gang
And you paid for the fuck

Got racks in the bag
You got nothin but dust

I worked for this shit
And now I be up

Can't keep my distance
You all in my shit like a virus

I stand on my business
Ignore you regardless

My shooter got aimbot
He moves like a Dalek

Yeah, unload the clip
This a heavy ass stick

When I'm done
I don't even think we'll recognise you

Talkin so much shit
That its makin me sick

All of the dollars, the guallas
At least they be honest

I speak for myself when I say that
I don't even fuck with you

Iced out my wrist and the coupe
That shit 2 of 2

Say that you're true and you real
You ain't got the proof

You just copy the style
You ain't got the groove

On the net
You just type for the fame

But the pressure get high
And you start actin strange

If he gon talk on my name
I don't fuck wit you

Say it again, lil bitch
We don't fuck with you

Yeah

You know I get it
Steppin outside if you with it

Fuck w me, boy
I'll have you trippin

I'm fitted

Talkin that shit through da phone
Come get it

Fraud bitch owned
Just know that I'm livid

Short lil shit
You fried

Smokin on a pack
Fuck that shit

Eat this nine

Runnin up racks
That's day n night

You livin w ya mama
Oooo, son, I'm crine

Talkin bout u the guy
Makin all this bread you spend

Boy, it's just rye

Just know you lie
So kneel down, son, bow your head

Then drink this wine

God ain't make you right
Ain't no better, but Lord

Please fix his height

Tweakin out
That's fine

But tinker w my shit
Ain't it

My switch gon fly