Songtext Fake love (yes men) Statik Selektah

Fake love (yes men)

Fakin hate yes men
Yes, yo, yeah
I hate fake love
Yeah, yeah

[Verse 1: Reks]
Yes, I confess, I seen a lot of love
But I seen a lot of fake I, seen a lot of frauds
Seen a lot of "I want" plus a lot of "can I have?"
Can you please tell me why these rappers is gassed?
Your whole team and you front like you got his back
But frontin is a hab', I mean stuntin (is a habit)
You would say he nice when he really ain't have it
He was just alright but you would say he smashed it
You would do his ad libs
All in the picture, get ya palms in the mixture, callin all his shit classic
You a broad, you a bastard
You a faggot for lettin him pursue a career of rap shit
I hate the average, MySpace friend request
Because the average MySpace friend request
Is ass rappers or producers who ass backwards
Think I'm a pay for whackness? (please)

[Hook: Good Brotha] (x2) (Kali)
I hate fake love
Comin from yes men, some of your best friends are guilty of
Givin you pats upon your back, callin love when there's really hate
Fuck yes men!
(I got the Henny in me
I got my niggas around me
Yeah, Showoff, Showoff, ha
Yo, uh)

[Verse 2: Kali]
It be the nigga in the background, cheerin you on (yeah)
High fives and pats on the back after every song (haha)
But after the Henny's gone, it won't take long (nah)
Cause friends turn to enemies, so friendship's gone
Fuckin yes men, they'll tell ya whatever you wanna hear (yo)
Just to stay close until the money's gone, then they disappear (gone)
Show up a different year, rockin some different gear (what up?)
Talkin the same shit (haha) but shit is different here (haha)
So I don't need 'em, I leave 'em, I'm not concerned with 'em (nah)
Never keep 'em close if there's no money to be earned with 'em (what's the point?)
Ass kissers, kind of like a bad blister (uh huh)
Fuckin up the way I walk, so I just straight dismiss 'em (peace)
No patience, for niggas that be hatin
And bitches that be frontin like they virgins and they waitin (come on)
Life's too short, so choose your circle wisely (cause)
Cause (it's your thing), word to Ron Isley (yeah, word)

[Hook:] (Termanology)
(Termanology
Showoff, Showoff
Uh, uh)

[Verse 3: Termanology]
I had a homie named La Di Da, he like to party hard
Mardi Gras all the time, mamis all by the bar
He had about fifty cats around 'em
Talkin about he the next Em, Jigga and Rakim
But when they came to rock him, push his shit in
Where was all his mens? (I don't know), swallowin his Hen'
What about the Benz and the gems on his neck
And the ends that he spent on his so called friends?
All of your mens said you the next Kanye
Except you was pullin up in a Hyundai
It's okay, you gonna make it dude someday
And when you do, I'll be +Happy+ like Ashanti
What would your moms say? Your friends get you in trouble
So get away from them on the double
Wanna put 'em to the test?
Make the worst shit in your life and show it to 'em and see if they say "yes"

[Hook:]