Pump Fake (feat. Playboi Carti)

I know you heard all about me See me on TV, Instagram, bitch, I'm poppin' (bitch, I'm poppin') Cash Carti, Cash Carti, my lane, no stoppin' Niggas sneak diss and they tryna plot me Fuck 'em, fuck 'em, find they hoes and fuck 'em Fuck 'em, fuck 'em, find they hoes and fuck Fuck 'em then dump 'em then dump 'em I don't give no fucks, yeah Yeah, I feel like Donald Trump now I don't give a fuck, yeah Damn, okay, cool Pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah Okay, cool, yeah Pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah Pump-fake Fuck that bitch, I pass her to my brodie, yeah Pump-fake Fuck her then I pass her to my brodie, yeah Pump-fake I don't need no bitch, I got another one Pump-fake I don't give a fuck, I got another one Yeah, yeah, yeah, with my niggas off the Xans We up at Follies throwin' bands And all my niggas 'bout that action, yeah Fuckin' what you talkin' bout? That 29-hundred niggas 'bout Green flax in a fuckin' pouch Niggas know what we fuckin' 'bout Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya, all these niggas wanna bite my swag Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya, every time your bitch, she 'bout this shit Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya, she don't talk, she like ya-ya pimp Yung Carti that fuckin' pimp Bitch, I walk with a fuckin' limp Rest in peace Pimp C, my nigga Rest in peace Pimp C, my nigga Yung Cash Carti that young nigga Is that young nigga Shakes and shoppin' sprees, nigga Up in fuckin' London, nigga Up in fuckin' Paris, nigga Two cups, I ain't sharin', nigga Oh, I need a bag I need a bitch with an ass No attitude, just smash, yeah Yung Carti that nigga Steal my swag, steal my swag Swag-surfin' on the track Hold up, let me get that back, oh Pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah Okay, cool, yeah Pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah Hold up, bitches on my dick For what? For what? Niggas wanna see me dead Nigga, for what? I got clout, I got clout Hoes tryna give me mouth Boy, I pull them triggers out We don't really run our mouth I'm from Zone three, Zone three 13, skate town with the bling You know how I'm comin', bitch Oh-ah Know how I'm comin', bitch Pull them dirty sticks And we movin' dirty sticks with the shit Cash Carti got a bag Got a Louis bag, but I put some Gucci in that bag Nigga fuck what you talkin' bout All that shit you got Yung Carti been copped or been had, nigga, I'm hot Nigga, I'm hot Young, hot but I'm cool, yeah Bad bitch, she a fool, yeah Cash Carti, I cool y'all But all my niggas, they bool, yeah Niggas yellin' like bool, yeah Hop in the bank like bool, yeah Hop in the ships like bool, yeah Hop in sets like bool, yeah Pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah Pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah (fuck SpaceGhostPurrp A$AP) Damn