Lyrics CHVSE – Fake Fans
Text:
CHVSE:
Ugh
Let’s begin when I first started rapping
You said I was shit, even though it was my passion
So now to prove you wrong I got my artist name tatted on my forearm, the score on, you moron, and morons
I’m finna be spitting it in an I’ll rhythm and never admit it til you’re gone
You’re on my last nerve I got left
And I’m about to let it go, explode flows for the stress, ah
Uh, so what you really gotta say to me?
I’ll never see the light, and my dreams are purely make belief?
Take the beat out of the hate and try to get away from me
But this is not the time or place to try to make a safe retreat
Yeah, ’cause I’m the devil while you’re just a demon
If you think you’re on my level then you must be dreaming
‘Cause I fell into selling the records always busting even
Seeing that I can never trust a soul unless it wasn’t breathing
Mind staying on the racks like a cake band
Bitches actin shady like they wear a pair of Ray Bands
They say they love it, but they always gotta hate man
Yo that’s the fucking definition of a fake fan
Of a fake fan, of a, of a fake fan
Yo that’s the fucking definition of a fake fan
Of a fake fan, of a, of a fake fan
Yo that’s the fucking definition of a fake fan
Yo, look, uh
Skitzo let’s be honest, It’s clear that I’m a better you
Then how come in a year your career never ever grew
Callin me a dick, saying I changed ’cause I don’t message you
Then tellin all your friends that I’m a fake who wants the revenue
And now that I got the fame, they wanna open for Chase
Yo that’s ironic ’cause they prayed I wouldn’t get paid
The same lame fuckin artists who been talking my name
They sayin
«Hey what’s up bro? We killed it on a track
And if you like the product you can spill it to your fans
I’m an up and coming artist and I thought you’d give a chance»
But little do they know I heard em talk behind my back
And that’s a fact ’cause I ain’t fuckin with another snake
Labels hit me up ’cause I can double what the others make
But I turn ’em down ’cause I work for what the others say
Fuck the pay, I could make the money on another day
Mind staying on the racks like a cake band
Bitches actin shady like they wear a pair of Ray Bands
They say they love it, but they always gotta hate man
Yo that’s the fucking definition of a fake fan
Of a fake fan, of a, of a fake fan
Yo that’s the fucking definition of a fake fan
Of a fake fan, of a, of a fake fan
Yo that’s the fucking definition of a fake fan
Hi-Rez:
Ha, Skitzo what up? Rez, no snakes
They all hatin, really they fans? Promoters payin me in advance
I been bending over backwards for the motherfuckers like I break dance
Every single day I take chances, I don’t break bread with no fake friends
Swear to God I work so hard, everything I have I earned up to hand it
I been drinkin, I been overthinking
Teachers said I wasn’t shit like Jesse Pinkman
Now I’m making money so this shit is funny
Now I got a buzz so I’m gettin honeys
Go hard til I stop breathing
Tryna kick me out the game, I’m not leaving
It’s my turn, it’s my season
I’m killing shit, I don’t need a reason
Rez
