Counterfeit

Lyrics

[Intro: Tommy Wright III] Street type Gotta get some money if I ain't got none Street type Gotta get some money if I ain't got none All it takes is a steamer and a motherfuckin gun Street type Gotta get some money if I ain't got none Street type Gotta get some money if I ain't got none Street type Gotta get some money if I ain't got none All it takes is a steamer and a motherfuckin gun Street type Gotta get some money if I ain't got none Street type Gotta get some money if I ain't got none All it takes is a steamer and a motherfuckin gun [Verse 1: GHOSTEMANE] Negative shit running through my brain Say what you want I can't keep shit tame Don't talk to nobody You all the same Everybody say they feel your pain Smoking that shit don't make me sane Sipping that shit don't make shit change I'm thinking about shit I can't explain Like "what would it be like in outer space?" Cause I cannot fight with the people I know Everybody thinks their shit don't stink Sometimes all I wanna do is write your name in a Death Note Now watch somebody say to me "Okay, if you jump you will freeze" They'll say it again and again Until you die of memories This the type of shit I think about Why'll you pretend to breathe You counterfeit [Chorus: Tommy Wright III] Street type Gotta get some money if I ain't got none Street type Gotta get some money if I ain't got none All it takes is a steamer and a motherfuckin gun Street type Gotta get some money if I ain't got none Street type Gotta get some money if I ain't got none Street type Gotta get some money if I ain't got none All it takes is a steamer and a motherfuckin gun [Verse 2: Wavy Jone$] I'm getting lit on this shit I've been smoking blunts by the river You counterfeit Just a bitch Ain't nothing more than a quitter I'm bout it, bout it All it Been praying to God for a lick Fuck the devil I'm fed up I'm sick of life, watch me drip I'll float away through the shadows Ain't seen some light for some days I'll drown myself in this darkness If I wake up not the same Can't count the bodies around me I think I'm losing my grip I need to escape this matrix Before my sanity slips I'm wide awake Why am I naked? I feel nothing, I hate it I'm rolling blunts like they sacred I'm dressed all black like I'm Vader No contemplating, I made it But still, they wanted me dead I'll do your bitch ass a favor and put this tool in your head You counterfeit [Chorus: Tommy Wright III] Street type Gotta get some money if I ain't got none Street type Gotta get some money if I ain't got none All it takes is a steamer and a motherfuckin gun Street type Gotta get some money if I ain't got none Street type Gotta get some money if I ain't got none Street type Gotta get some money if I ain't got none All it takes is a steamer and a motherfuckin gun