[Verse]
Claims he a killer, but his Glock's made of foam,
Shadows in the alley, he just scared to roam,
Talkin' 'bout bodies stacked high like a throne,
Only thing he poppin' is his momma’s cologne.
[Verse 2]
Brags he a menace, streets tremble at his name,
Reality check—he's a pawn in this game,
Tickets stackin’ high for that illegal lane,
Parking fines hittin', that's his hall of fame.
[Chorus]
Fake thug, fake love, playin' dress-up with the streets,
No scars, no bars, just imaginary feats,
Dreams of a kingpin, but his story’s weak,
A thug in his head, but the truth’s concrete.
[Verse 3]
He say he a hustler, big cash in the bag,
Reality? Coupons, he cuttin’ price tags,
Claims he got shooters, whole crew finna sag,
Only shots he takin' is his selfie swag.
[Bridge]
Rollin’ in a Civic, rims tryin’ to gleam,
Tinted windows low, but it’s all just a scheme,
Flexin’ on the ‘gram, livin' out a dream,
Real G’s move silent, he just chasin’ streams.
[Verse 4]
Backseat of a cop car, his first real cuffs,
Expired tags got him callin' it rough,
No priors, no stripes, no street-tough stuff,
A paper gangster, his façade ain’t enough.