Fake vs Real

Album cover art for "Fake vs Real" by Pumpkinhead

Pumpkinhead - Rap

Fake vs Real

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[Intro: Sample from [?]] (Ladies and gentlemen). Well, look at ya. I'd rather get up and do my thing. OK, well let me kind of move these things around. [Yeah, you know. Let me get up and do my thing, understand?]. (I don't know). Uh, can I, can I, can I really get up, though? Can I, can I, can I, can I get on this thing, really? We're ready to get into it! (Come on!) [Verse 1: Pumpkinhead] Oh, you a killer now? Nigga, you never loaded TECs Never busted a cap. You just rapped that mess I've been shot once, stabbed twice. I done dirt You a bitch-ass faggot with a short-ass skirt You don't know nothing 'bout this here, how I work How I move is so on point. You try to kick Dirt on my name, but I'm so on point I'm a human protractor, the real thing and you're the actor Who acts up. Back up, get out of my way or get smacked up I'm from Brooklyn. Sunset from Bed Stuy, where heads get clapped up And there ain't no such thing as too young to die Cats be walking by with they MACs up. Watch your back, punk Before you get dumped in a back trunk I'm sorry to say (What?), but you the last one Who should be telling someone they ain't do things they said they done When you the first one to run, hotstepping like Ini Kamoze—and you got cold feet That's some strange shit. Boy, you ain't shit You see a gun and you faint quick You ain't never gonna change—different day, same shit Fake shit, fake ice, fake thug. Everywhere I look, same shit He fronting just on some fame shit Fronting like you down, I'ma hurt your feeling when I say this: [Hook: Pumpkinhead] You not real You're faker than the tits on Pamela Lee. Nigga, please You not real You just talk that. I walk that—it's the air that I breathe I'm so real And can back up every word of it, but you not murderous No deal You ain't got one and never will—that's for real [Verse 2: Pumpkinhead] You a fake thug that got a fake gun That bust fake slugs and your boys give you fake love You got a fake whip, sitting on fake dubs You rock fake ice from selling them fake drugs You got a fake chick who love that fake shit From her fake Prada bag to her fake tits I can't take this. All of this fakeness fill me with hatred In this fake world, everyone wants some fake shit Whether it's fake hair, fake clothes, fake kicks Fake eyes, fake nose, fake lips Niggas getting cosmetic facelifts on some gay shit Labels give you fake support to make fake hits You got big dough, big face, fake hunnids And give it to that one you loving with that fake baby in her stomach It's so hard to stay on the straight and narrow (Why stop?) When all them fake fans give you fake props Telling you your shit is hot but it's not. Now you dead In a box 'cause you popped a hot one in your head Should have listened to what I said: if you live fake, you die fake Boy, I'm [fed off?] [?] from another body. Tell my folk I'm close to the edge Then I found out Erica had fake dreads on her head All that shit is fake. I'll tell you what's real: My boy baby face getting popped twice with the steel And surviving—that's real. My boy Luke got shot And died New Year's—that's real Real thugs don't tear. We spill beer Fake thugs been around and they'll still be here [Bridge: Pumpkinhead] Fake vs. real. Real vs. fake Fake vs. real. Real vs. fake Fake vs. real. Real vs. fake Fake niggas gonna die. Real niggas don't fake [Hook: Pumpkinhead] You not real You're faker than the tits on Pamela Lee. Nigga, please You not real You just talk that. I walk that—it's the air that I breathe I'm so real And can back up every word of it, but you not murderous No deal You ain't got one and never will—that's for real [Outro: Pumpkinhead] Yeah

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Credits

Producers
  • Eli Escobar