Pump Fake

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