Counterfeit
[Chorus]
I’m gold bars, you’re gold plated, I’m blockbuster, you’re unrated
Your life’s mine now; confiscated, got more flows than you’ve got faces
You’re a bounced check, I’m banknotes, I’m a Van Gogh, you’re forged, hoe
Finessin’ me? You can’t handle this, I’m a fucking mint and you’re counterfeit
I’m on that Paco Rabanne, 1 Million, eau de toilette, never forget
You gon’ remember this scent, taste it on your final breath
I taste success; I’m successful, back on track, you’re dead, fool
So I’ll reiterate it bitch, I’m a fucking mint and you’re counterfeit

[Verse 1]
You’re back in town, I’ll keep it real, ain’t holding back ‘bout how I feel
You’re a crowd pleaser, you’re a cheerleader, I’m the quarterback and I run this field
You’re my end zone, I’m a touchdown, I’m the boss bitch, you’re a worker now
I’m a Maybach, you’re in the impound, error 404; life not found
But let’s take it back when we first met, when I didn’t wanna put you in a hearse yet
Before I drew blood, you were new blood, you were working hard for that first check
First checked you out on that first day, first impressions like wild intentions
Guess I’m confessing my thirst, aye, better pray you’re fucking trained in first aid
Basic vanilla bitch or so you claim, actions ain’t matching the shit that you’re saying
Act like you’re down for the snatch, never been with a bitch, c’mon hunty, who you think you’re playing?
Speak with your hands, like, whenever you talk, strut like a runway whenever you walk
Alibi loose as your wrist, I call you Taylor Swift, look what you made me do, look what you made me did
Don’t think you’re ready for it, don’t think you’re ready for this, you know by now I can spit
Bars and I don’t take no prisoners so you’re found dead in a ditch
You know there’s levels to it, I’m getting high as a lift, I’m saying bye to your wig
You’re now the singular victim of lyrical liquidation, bitch
[Chorus]
I’m gold bars, you’re gold plated, I’m blockbuster, you’re unrated
Your life’s mine now; confiscated, got more flows than you’ve got faces
You’re a bounced check, I’m banknotes, I’m a Van Gogh, you’re forged, hoe
Finessin’ me? You can’t handle this, I’m a fucking mint and you’re counterfeit
I’m on that Paco Rabanne, 1 Million, eau de toilette, never forget
You gon’ remember this scent, taste it on your final breath
I taste success; I’m successful, back on track, you’re dead, fool
So I’ll reiterate it bitch, I’m a fucking mint and you’re counterfeit

[Verse 2]
It’s getting nasty so bring the ether, I’m name callin’ like Queen Latifah
Found your weave? Nah, me neither, never see you again; Wiz Khalifa
More citations than term papers, reminders that you’re a fucking failure
No mortarboard, no education, just a HECS debt that your daddy paid for
Did he take you under his right wing, convince you that was the right thing
Your self hatred and virgin status are all that you’re conserving
Conversing for hours on end, why you still tryna pretend, did you think I would forget
You added me and still asked for my number, but sure, we’re just friends
Never again, and if you message me, you can bet I’m not responding like control-alt-delete
You’re a virus, if I ever catch your ass in the street, bet you’d freeze, I’d have to shut you down indefinitely
You’re a catfish out of water, ‘cause a bad bitch finally caught ya
Hoe, even the fucking name you say to call ya is fake as a pseudonym author
Guess I just read you for filth, got so much dirt I could spill
Next time I see you, at least the ICU will have more positions to fill
Thirty-one… still lit, twenty-four, here is your gift
This ain’t a haiku, I’m betting your IQ resembles the size of your dick
[Chorus]
I’m gold bars, you’re gold plated, I’m blockbuster, you’re unrated
Your life’s mine now; confiscated, got more flows than you’ve got faces
You’re a bounced check, I’m banknotes, I’m a Van Gogh, you’re forged, hoe
Finessin’ me? You can’t handle this, I’m a fucking mint and you’re counterfeit
I’m on that Paco Rabanne, 1 Million, eau de toilette, never forget
You gon’ remember this scent, taste it on your final breath
I taste success; I’m successful, back on track, you’re dead, fool
So I’ll reiterate it bitch, I’m a fucking mint and you’re counterfeit