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Walk Faster Video (MV)




Performed By: Tha Real Craig White
Length: 1:39
Written by: Craig White




Tha Real Craig White - Walk Faster Lyrics




As the sun rotate and this clout grows bigger
How many of yall is some bitch ass niggas?
Claiming that you real cause you pulling all them triggas
That dont make you real boy that just make you a nigga
Some of my dogs is rich
Some my dogs is poor
All of em' real we stay in the field you niggas ain't ready for war
I don't see ya'll outside
Ya'll act hard on the internet
Need to up ya'll intellect
I came drippin' in the vintage sweats
I really want a grill yeah
But I ain't seen my dentist yet
I f*ck with her on a pill
When I'm sober she ain't on shit
I be so beyond shit if she ain't fiance or Beyonce then I don't want it
That car crazy up the app then it started going
My hair got waves in the top but I'm not the ocean
My brother rollin up a chop then he started smoking
Now usually I wouldn't smoke but right now I want it
So I hit that shit
Mix that shit with Cliquot easy freethrow rappin' on this beat tho
Dye my hair they think I'm Comethazine but its me tho
Blonde, blue, strips
I told yo bitch to strip
While I'm out taking a trip
Atlanta, New York, LA, wherever
Rapping, trappin, I'm doin it, better
I could make it happen on my own ya'll poppin never
Look you in the eyes I see you sold your soul to the devil ya'll stupid
I just be making this music
Lie to that bitch like I'm cupid
The Hometeam not with you losers
The Gutterboys getting that lucci
My girl got a ghetto ass booty
I wake her up, we make a movie
Ya'll money Young like Tunechi
AYE!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




As the sun rotate and this clout grows bigger
How many of yall is some bitch ass niggas?
Claiming that you real cause you pulling all them triggas
That dont make you real boy that just make you a nigga
Some of my dogs is rich
Some my dogs is poor
All of em' real we stay in the field you niggas ain't ready for war
I don't see ya'll outside
Ya'll act hard on the internet
Need to up ya'll intellect
I came drippin' in the vintage sweats
I really want a grill yeah
But I ain't seen my dentist yet
I f*ck with her on a pill
When I'm sober she ain't on shit
I be so beyond shit if she ain't fiance or Beyonce then I don't want it
That car crazy up the app then it started going
My hair got waves in the top but I'm not the ocean
My brother rollin up a chop then he started smoking
Now usually I wouldn't smoke but right now I want it
So I hit that shit
Mix that shit with Cliquot easy freethrow rappin' on this beat tho
Dye my hair they think I'm Comethazine but its me tho
Blonde, blue, strips
I told yo bitch to strip
While I'm out taking a trip
Atlanta, New York, LA, wherever
Rapping, trappin, I'm doin it, better
I could make it happen on my own ya'll poppin never
Look you in the eyes I see you sold your soul to the devil ya'll stupid
I just be making this music
Lie to that bitch like I'm cupid
The Hometeam not with you losers
The Gutterboys getting that lucci
My girl got a ghetto ass booty
I wake her up, we make a movie
Ya'll money Young like Tunechi
AYE!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Craig White
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid


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