Fake throws open the curtain on a world where swagger and street talk are often nothing but smoke and mirrors. Over a booming beat, Puerto Rican producer Night Skinny teams up with Italian word-smiths Geolier and Luchè to call out everyone who flexes designer labels, Instagram views, and shiny chains without any real substance. If a smile shows only teeth, it is not genuine; if loyalty exists only until the first temptation, it is worthless. The rappers pile up vivid images – from plastic surgery and fake Rolexes to a kiss of betrayal like Judas – to show how easily people trade authenticity for appearances.
Yet the song is more than just an exposé. By contrasting “favezo” (fake) with “overo” (real), the trio lay down an unofficial code of honor for the streets: true people do not betray first, they do not brag about money they don’t have, and their reputation stands even when the spotlight fades. In short, Fake is a raw, witty reminder that in a universe obsessed with status symbols, the sharpest flex is still integrity.