Rob C - Fake Bande lyrics

[Rob C - Fake Bande lyrics]

Pehle sher
Phir snakes ab ye snakes karte rattle
Chuppi saadh ye bethey thay
Jab hua mera battle
Sabse maangte beef, real life mein jo cattle
Andar se ye khaali chhote bol kya hai matter?

High hoke sab bante maha purush hai
Insecure ye khud se na khush hai
Miley na attention toh dete subliminal
Sab theek tha insey mila jab beete kal

Apna fame chhote daal pichwaade mein
Main ni Fasta ye fake waale jaale mein
Umar mein bade harkaton se nadaan
Mote bhai tujhse teri biwi pareshan

Asli goat ke aage tu hai hypeman
Kaunsa drive by? Tu chalaata uski van
Sun driver pakad ke screw driver
Nut zara kas le aur ho ja bete wiser



Beat mein kick flow mein bhi laatein
AP ne phir thode daale thay chaante
No days off aur lagi kitni raatein
Aaj bhaari plate tabhee aake meri chaatein
Mass waali game kari maine master
Lete pehle pange aur bante phir pastor
Style mera furious, mic pe main bastard
Kaat ta main beat jaise Shawn Corey Carter

Pesa Nasha Pyar shoutout to Bohemia
All about the cream mere bhai jaise Nivea
Baha doon saara khoon jaise Thalassemia
Zoom karke main check karun bibiyaan

Uski post mein lage bade filter
Par baby ke mooh pe na filter
Beech wale bande ko beech waali finger
Hoon main bete rapper, nahi rap singer!

Bhookhe rapper mera style Karen byte
Muscle se masal doon main saare termite
Teri Jaan ko pasand mera Cena (John Cena)
Kal Rati mere naal hi taan see na

Possesive tu Usko leke
Bhai tera Shimla gaya usey leke
Mujhse to hui ni handle
Par Raat seegi lit with a candle

Kehte kiya miss, phir kiya misguide
Farh le tu aake meri balls barhi wide
B-Real mere bhai uske baad liyo side
Tera kar doon main oral, mera flow kare ride
(Flouride)
Tight karun durag, tight meri rhyme scheme
Mere mooh pe mere bhai
Peeche daale bas scheme
Tere message Teri Bandi ki
Tarah chhode maine, seen

Mere andar hai Nipsey, beere
Sober main tipsy, meri aatma
Gypsy, all they do is miss me
Teri miss will kiss me
Then she might wanna diss me
It’s a regular thing see
Robbie banuga Pimp C

I’m lit, infinite, it’s a gift
Not from Tokyo but I know how to drift
All I need is a Mic
And I’ll shine everytime I spit bitch!

Fake Bande chalte chaalein, baby oh no
Baby no more, Baby no more
Fake Bande chalte chaalein, baby oh no
Baby no more, I ain’t witchu no more!

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