Fake Names - A COLORS SHOW

Uh yeah, yeah
Uh, yeah yeah, uh
Mic check check check, yeah, uh
Mic check check check, yeah
Mic check check check, yeah, uh
I need a check, check, check
Bitch, bitch, bitch, uh

Shit's so real, gotta use fake names
Every time I sleep, dead faces
They occupy my brain
Erica said I never changed
It's the lifestyles of the insane

You was like a brother to me, no other to me
Swear I would trade my life for yours
I knew you was fucking with me
Found some niggas fucked your wife and
We put them bitches to sleep
Ain't gon' say your government
I'ma call him by Ricky G now Ricky G
He had a cousin named Yella
With bricks of yola
Had a Mexican that came 'cross
The border from Arizona
They was getting shit for seventeen
Tossin' shit to me for twenty-eight
Bitch go for thirty-one, I barely ate
Seen them niggas frown when I
Started breaking that shit down
Said I need more time with them chickens
I'm out here making rounds
Jealous niggas want they twenty-eight
Up front now
I bought all the damn clientele
We could have ran the town
But fuck it, you cut the price
Then I fly to Phoenix
Said if you ain't copping like
Twenty, then, cocksucker, beat it, yeah
They put Yella Boy on the evening news
Devil on my shoulder said
"Fuck friends 'cause cash rules"

Shit's so real, gotta use fake names
Every time I sleep, dead faces
They occupy my brain, uh
Christina said I never changed
It's the lifestyles of the insane

I done walked through hell
In these size 12's
Speak it from my own mouth before
I let the time tell
Dream team legal, I never take an L
Courtroom, funeral fresh, Givenchy my lapel
Pouring up, foreigned up, three bricks
I'm a hundred up
Jack a pussy, blow his pack
That's how you fuck the summer up
Fuck it up, bottled up
Your hoes fuck for followers
Vanessas, Carries, tiger lilies, bitch
I'm super modeled up well, pimp that
My hoes twist it fat, she roll
Ten Backwoods out the zip, yeah
Pasadena Rena, came to Vegas, it was lit
Yeah crystal Lynn came all the way
To Denver for the dick, yeah
Had to cancel my Miami trip
That bitch was sick, yeah
Put me on, always put me on
Then labor sixteen hours, need to put me on
Drop a zone, dope ain't locking up
This shit done took too long
Shout out to BO and Charlie Mack, man
Bring them niggas home
Most my dawgs got life in jail
From conversations on the phone
I bought my first mansion
Told my mama leave that dope alone
Forget that, used to get ten
Bricks Dominicano off the lip, yeah
Put that on my nephew Luciano, we the shit
Yeah bitch, I put your pussy in the
Mail, I need to see it, yeah
Abby used to follow me on
Tour, that shit was lit, yeah
Put me on, Freddie, put me on
Put me on, Freddie, put me on

Yeah, Eastside kane Train, baby
Yeah, ESGN for life, yeah yeah
Yeah, yeah yeah, uh
Put me on, Freddie, put me on, uh
Freddie, put me, put me on, uh
Put me on, Freddie, put me on, uh
Put me on, Freddie, put me on, yeah
They calling your bitch, yeah