[Lyric] Fake (Casual)

[Verse 1: Pep Love]

Ima runner mucka
They say that's a bad motha-shut yo mouth
Everytime i bring the ruckus
Bust till my lung is busted
Bust till i travel into space, that remains undiscovered
Hieroglyphics is the rap government
And you can get indited if you don't throw up your hands and punk
Yo bitch

[Verse 2: Casual]

And i'm on my shit
Run it bitch
None of y'all weak motherfuckers can run with this
The god of the audiobox
Whatever comes out of your mouth
I slaughter while the audience watch
Under the order of the lord of hip hop
Grand mic master, the hiero rules
Tongue spit god shit, they lose
You on some young shit, the pharaoh's back
I spit black rap
[Chorus: Casual, Pep Love & Izrell]

All that shit you be talking
That's fake
All that frontin on the camera
That's fake
We stick to the real
That's fake
You on that bullshit, in other words
That's fake [2x]

[Verse 3: Pep Love]

I'm hard body with the bars
And i'm caught up with the calls
And the audience applauds
I don't need to chains
I don't need no brains
I don't need gold grills
I don't need no fame
To flaunt around me
I'm confident but they call me cocky
These are the ones that make me reply with a child please
You don't know nothing about me
But when my mouthpiece squeeze the crowd please
I'm outtie
[Verse 4: Casual]

Rap sorcerer, black author, west coast
Go off track onto East Oakland
Mad author, gat pointed to a cat
Back off of the magical author walt williams
Scholar with the audible auto flow
Regarded, the nautical spit cannons
On every article, yo i don't give a fuck
It's rap god, L to yo old heam
Red, black and green
The team is here

[Chorus: Casual, Pep Love & Izrell]

All that shit you be talking
That's fake
All that frontin on the camera
That's fake
We stick to the real
That's fake
You on that bullshit, in other words
That's fake [2x]