pump fake

10,000 hours homie passed that Runnin' laps on these fuckin' tracks I'm pullin' up in all black black black Pull up on me you get blap blap blap Windows tinted with the matte black wrap Cruisin' real slow on the ten I got old homies that owe me but won't see a cent Funny how certain things end up I ain't stressin' I'm keepin' my ends up With that thing in my pocket I'm stayin' tucked Cuz I'd rather get caught up with it than without it These are hunnits boy count it I ain't been drinking no liquor I'm grounded Might have a joint get the crib lookin' cloudy You soundin' rough and my shit soundin' rounded Don't keep no one else but my day one's around me, I'm sick Sick of all these bitches tryna act like they could out-rap me They don't want rap beef, they don't want real beef either If you wanna chop chop get the meat cleaver Imma beat the shot clock with a buzz beater Speak on my name but won't die bout it, dead it Saw that you dropped but we sleep, Akademics I ain't get rest til the fuckin' pandemic And now every day I be wakin' up rested (well) Fuckboy don't want no war I'm changin' my number when I go on tour Yeah I got a little but I want a lot more like Pump fake Bitches want a problem no way Bitches want a problem no way I said pump fake Bitches want a problem no way Bitches want a problem no way I said pump fake Bitches want a problem no way Bitches want a problem no way I said pump fake Bitches want a problem no way Bitches want a problem no way I said pump fake