Freddie Foxxx
Fake
[Intro]
Yeah
This one goes out to all the fake n***as
I ain't never gonna stop doing fake n***a records
We got to keep doing fake n***a records
Records about fake n***as
Word up
Got to keep 'em alert
Stay alert
Word up
It’s Bump

[Verse 1]
I feel arrogant doing this record for real, no joke
‘Cause y’all know I’m gonna body it, so dope
I came through the game and build me an intake
But trust me, I put out mad times for friend fakes
Fake friends, y’all get it, you should understand
Your enemy can shake your hand, and you will never know it
Unless you’re Bumpy Knuckles, the clever poet
(“Are you ready?”) Keep flowing
Yo, n***as right now saying, is he talking about me?
Those are the n***as that are foul, my real n***as understand my style
So they’re sitting back laughing like “that n***a Bumpy wild
Wow”
N***as all talking like they the best, the best what?
Ball rider, flow biter
You’re no writer, I come hold the one like the old Tiger
(“And you don’t stop”) Feel me
I told Premo I was doper than the rest of them
They all know that I am, I’m vocal with the best of them
Bumpy rhyme dope, but no one would invest in him
‘Cause he came to meeting with the gun and the vest with him
New tough talking from these clowns, they don’t mess with him
Bump will send his head through the walls and his chest with him
Labels rejected him, fans, they requested him
Rappers to the stage, if they’re live, then I’m resting them
[Scratches by DJ Premier]
[?]

[Verse 2]
Y’all know them n***as that will smile in your face and show love
But the hug feel funny? Huh, what’s up, money?
You really only come around when I’m spending money
When I was fucked up, you was acting funny, what’s up, money?
You know them n***as who think you don’t know ‘em
But they praise you in the face, behind the back, knife throwing
Pillow talk, I’m pimping, she hoeing
You stupid on cupid, talking like a sucker to a dicksucker
Who always come back to tell on you dumb motherfucking
Y’all suckers
Butt lickers, yes, she told me that, too
Your gangster’s like makeup, removable
Like a clown in the circus, you’ve been played again
Like a clown in the circus, had to say it again

[Hook]
Hey, my n***a
You so fucking fake
Hey, my n***a, you fake
You so fucking fake
Hey, my n***a, you fake
You so fucking fake
Hey, my n***a, I know it
N***as is fake
[Verse 3]
I turn the mic on and rock when I’m pissed off
A rhyme book, ‘cause my Blackberry chip’s off
Plus I’m a writer, not a typer like a secretary
Super cyber n***a, that’s unnecessary
It’s kinda scary how the game changed, ain’t it
Black with his face painted, my mom fainted like
“Lord these cheering done lost their mind
But I’m glad I ain’t lost all mine
My oldest daughter working all the time, Freddie still making them rhymes
Praying for me, fighting off the devil”
‘Cause my moms, I’m on a whole ‘nother level
With the mic, I’m a rebel, treble
Bass, in your face
Bass, in your face
Bass, in your face
Premier
Premier
Word Up