Fake OG lyrics

[Intro: Beno]
Antt did the track
Stuntman
Beatgang
Woo

[Verse 1: Beno]
I wake up and I look up in the mirror, prayin' God to Jesus
You can get like ten grams for a thousand when I'm in the V
You wake up and you look up in the mirror, what you tryna be?
All these old n*ggas runnin' game, tryna mimic Meech
I got 'bout like fifty-five shooters when I'm in the D
Still got the plug on the drank, he from Virginia Beach
We was havin' shootouts with some n*ggas that's from down the street
b*tch, she wanna leave 'cause she heard I'm back in the beef
My mama pray for me 'cause she heard I'm back in the streets (Man)

[Verse 2: Drego]
Yeah, I need a whole M like four Richard Milles
I spent some sh*t on my chain, this sh*t cost a bricky
This n*gga lookin' at me wrong, I'ma up the blicky
Have my b*tch drain you out your bag, boy, like Robin Givens
Yeah, I'm still singing for the pus*y, boy, like Lyfe Jennings
Ayy, I get to spending that Al Green when I get to feeling
I need a thousand pack of beans, keep them b*tches spinning
[Verse 3: Beno]
And we can shoot back down the way, b*tch, just to make a killing
We sipped like sixty-five lines, I think I reached my limit
She say, "It won't fit, bae, you gotta pack it different"
I can see this sh*t now, it ain't no competition
But when you hop up in that field, you better not leave that biscuit
Tryna run this sh*t up fast like zero to sixty
When you in the streets, boy, you cannot show no sympathy
I just blew straight through that bag, she want that Tiffany (Man)

[Verse 4: Drego]
Ayy, I heard that n*gga lean, dawg, be freezin' in the freezer
Lil Jon, I'm with them Eastside boys, they'll get you
How you gon' bubble in the D? n*ggas hatin', n*ggas snitchin'
Fake OG tryna coach me, he ain't even on the bleachers
Gotta watch the n*ggas closest, he'll give you to the people
Twenty-five hundred for this jacket, I just wear it for a season
Fifteen hundred for these pants with this thirty piece peekin'
If you wanna take a chance, we got the Martin and the Gina
She like, 'Why it's hot as hell?" Baby, we the reason
I'll have my n*ggas bake you, wrap you like a pita

[Verse 5: Beno]
I'm finna serve this blowhead, she said, "Bring a needle"
I told lil' baby go'n 'head when we stopped in Cleveland
RIP my baby Five, really miss my mans
Man, I'd rather f*ckin' die than get played like a ham
All this f*ckin' money, I just blow it like a fan
Yeah, for the whole damn year, I could pay your rent
[Verse 6: Drego]
Man, this chopper bustin', sound like Diddy in Making the Band
The only thing that I pray that this b*tch don't jam
I'm makin' way too many pros, don't tell your friend
That I be f*ckin' with the shh, 'cause I ain't takin' no L's
I heard he E.B. Du Bois, he workin' with them
I can't bring around my mans, he playin' with ten
I sent a new damn ton like I'm playin' with Cam
I heard he think he sippin' Act', he sippin' Am-Nam

[Outro]
Beatgang