Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Separated (Real from the Fake), artist - Havoc. Album song Separated (Real from the Fake), in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 10.09.2012
Record label: Nature Sounds
Song language: English
Separated (Real from the Fake) |
We all gathered here today to say goodbye to the lies bitch |
Hammer hit a nigga face, got him talking high pitch |
Falsetto like you belong in a pair of stilettos |
You drinking a woman’s drink, I’m on that hennessy level |
You sounding real sentimental, and soft in your hooks |
Can’t believe how this nigga dress I get nauseous when I look |
20 20 vision but had to take another look |
Who would’ve thought it was fiction like the motherfucking book |
Keep, using them 48 laws wrong get murked |
You used to spit bars but now you just churp |
Like a love bird, and most of your album is for the love birds |
Son be wilding, I keep it a thousand |
You trying on blouses |
Prove a nigga wrong, put your money where you mouth is |
What happened to the principles, your style not about shit |
This is what you call beef, I’m about to take a cowshit |
Separate the real from the fake |
The fake from the real |
Wipe that little smirk off your grill |
Niggas must be sniffing out the bills |
Out ya motherfucking mind |
You probably popped too many pills |
And when we bring it to you all you probably do is squeal |
(And when we bring it to you) The fear run through you |
And paralyze thoughts, homie I’m too boss |
You done woke a sleeping giant prepare to get dwarfed |
Just liability so I gotta write you off |
And toss to the side, ya hide is too soft |
You pussy like clitoris |
You addicted to the dickriding and can’t get off it |
Turn your children to orphans |
Fuck outta here, you my offspring |
Gave you that life that you talking |
QB till my motherfucking coffin |
Burning that sour till I’m coughin' |
And high as a plane, I’m just riding my lane |
It’s not broke, why fix it? |
Why the fuck would I change? |
Spit the shit that go inside a nigga vein |
Pictures all me in my crib cause I’m vain |
Tired of imposters, take 'em off the rosters |
Then I be at your door with the motherfucking choppers |