Fickle

Are you sick? Are you dripped? Yeah yeah yeah Save the pic, flavor it, yeah yeah yeah Walk around saying this and that Don't tell me you told everybody that you get the bag 'Cus you a fake fuck, turn it off, you ain't making hits, bruh I got thousands of dollars under my list of Who you are and who you wanna be Yo girl don't wanna rock a beat Reluctancy to fuckin' tell a sorry cheat You're way too insecure Quit making fickle slurs You're trying way too hard to be the shit, yeah But imma tell you that shit ain't gon' get you this far Back, back, back it up now I see you packing up your bags, wrap it up now 'Cus you ain't going nowhere You getting no shares Why would you go there? All the time, you don't care You rap about shit but you ain't living it I see your tracks all the time, got me feeling pissed Give it up now, wont make a buck now You talk about that Range Rover but it wont be found 'Cus imma drive through in my Mach-EX You talk a lot of big game but you wont be next I'm fucking on that bitch raw, I got no protection You pull up to the studio but you choke the session 'Cus I hit that bitch, one take, and I send it My lyrics come from real shit, no pretending Fucking scrap that new song 'cus it's so pretentious Pitch your vocals down but your words got no expression You a fake fuck, turn it off, you ain't making hits, bruh I got thousands of dollars under my list of Who you are and who you wanna be Yo girl don't wanna rock a beat Reluctancy to fuckin' tell a sorry cheat You're way too insecure Quit making fickle slurs You're trying way too hard to be the shit, yeah But imma tell you that shit ain't gon' get you this far Fake fuck, turn it off, you ain't making hits, bruh I got thousands of dollars under my list of Who you are and who you wanna be Yo girl don't wanna rock a beat Reluctancy to fuckin' tell a sorry cheat