J.R. Writer

J.R. Writer - Fake Ones lyrics

rate me

(ft. Papoose, Fred Money)

I got no time for fake shit

Bitches zipping first time with that cake free

From East to West sun bout great list

Welcome to the Matrix I got no time for fake shit

This is zipping true style with that cake friend

We do this great sun and ...

Welcome to the Matrix I got no time

It feel it got a price

At least looking that ass niggas that I’m out of size

It’s the lead and out of fly we are not allowd

I wanna see you in a box, we ain’t gotta

Like what you say how you fucking with J

Coming and see me I guess I got to see it away

Can’t touch without lay, what you done with your life

I get doing today

From the barrel where they both here

It’s catch wanna feed on my crach then you stepping on the theird will

You heard well, niggas, it’s kind of boring, how to snoring

You bettre warn ‚em don’t be bad on ‚em

Whole life way coulder, waving storming

So nice I gotta hang over every morning

All in, different pose been have a fake ball and your body be on sqill

I got no time for fake shit

Bitches zipping first time with that cake free

From East to West sun bout great list

Welcome to the Matrix I got no time for fake shit

I got no time for fake shit

Bitches zipping first time with that cake free

From East to West sun bout great list

Welcome to the Matrix I got no time for fake shit

Welcome to the Matrix I got no time

Welcome to the matrix see no time

Put your meddle right in your mought now you got brases]

Still stop and still, that should a great shit

You just help me shopping and still you bout to be shake with

Bouting a hundred killer and face a Benjamin Freaklin

Jakson it’s in a great hammer, flowing up in a bank click

Down pices and down be

Even if you shake chip

Usually you run with no money to tip the withress

Black belt mister Miagy here that brakes shit

Master chef starting a battle that make you can’t flip

Toushing my whore zipp right back

Zipping we make list

Fake bitch you drow on the trap, you ain’t speak

Feature with the guards, you did a feature with greave here

Gamble all night come home and hunstle all day shit

From a home to biggy I hold my gun so I say what the fuck I want

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