faxxmachine.
faxxmachine.

Diggy Metro - faxxmachine. Lyrics

2
faxxmachine. Music Video

faxxmachine. Lyrics

Still feel like I'm the best out
I been sharpening my pen while you pussies was trynna get clout
Get ya shit mixed
See a real one in person probably shit bricks
I don't understand the tone of all you fucking clones
Ya better leave this dog when i be picking bones
And i be feeling like a legend but I'm still unknown
But ain't no rappers fucking with me when I'm in my zone, ya fucking copy
He kinda cocky with the talking but could back it up
I see ya movement losing traction and I'm cracking up
I can't imagine what it feel like
To be a different man on camera than in real life
I never had to fake the funk
Same spic with all the bass up in my trunk and you know what's up
I cook the beat until its overdone
Still chefin up, this is lesson one

If you really had the bread you wouldn't tuck the shirt
Double g's up on the belt ain't showing what ya worth
Talking bout ya foreign whip but its a 02
All the ones who really know be like its so true
Dig Metropolis you wack nobody know you
If that's a fact say it loud for the kids in the back
Appreciate the people who keep it a stack
Never needed fake love or a pat on the back
I stay away from all the fuck shit
Bash Atlas with the substance
Give me time and i'ma run shit
Fuck a one hit wonder leave you wondering off one hit bitch I'm God

Let me spit facts
Why your panties in a bunch dog its just rap
On the mic they selling drugs making big stacks
Leave the booth and they can't even cop a big mac
This shit is pitiful I'm preying they get rid of you
And when you hear the shit I'm saying take it literal
The shoe aint got a fucking name but it's fitting you
I try to take you out the game it get critical
I'm coach Diggy my homies go coast to coast wit me
And when I'm winning my homies gon' share a toast wit me
Put ya glasses real high to the ceiling, can't fight the feeling
And I ain't bout to stop until my momma straight chilling
I'm trynna put my pops up in a big house
Maybe cop another he could rent out
I love the music but I do it for the wealth
Only promise I ain't doing it for self and bitch that's real

Writer(s): D. McBreen
Copyright(s): Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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