Testo Headshot - Lil Tjay feat. Polo G & Fivio Foreign
Testo della canzone Headshot (Lil Tjay feat. Polo G & Fivio Foreign), tratta dall'album Destined 2 Win
Pipe that shit up, TnT
Tahj Money
Dmac on the fucking track
Bordeaux and Non Native
I'm the one who tried to make a way when we was strugglin'
I remember rain, sleet, and snow, I was hustlin'
Know the feds watchin', middle fingers to the government
Glock in this Louis pouch, nigga, I ain't tusslin'
Catfish, he don't really know who he fuckin' with
Opps send a message, you grab a Drac' to rebuttal it
Had a undertaker at your tombstone, shovelin'
Hell yeah, hollows bound to chew 'em like some Doublemint
Made it out the field with somе niggas I was thuggin' with
We'll send some shots through thеy crowd while they huddlin'
I'm the type to leave it in the streets, I ain't discussin' it
Tryna make it flip, I need that Rolls-Royce Cullinan
Old bitches trippin', cut her off like a Backwood
Middle of the trenches, that's where me and the guys stood
Killers anonymous, black masks and black hoods (yeah, uh, uh)
Walk down on him, make sure he get clapped good (uh, uh)
I feel like the man of the hour (I do)
This gun on me (gun on me), I'm demandin' the power (brr)
He never talk to my face (nah), that man is a coward
Ayy, uh, uh
Go lookin' for him every hour, uh
I 'member nights in the tower (I do)
She suckin' my dick out the shower
Tell her, "Be quiet," she told me, "Fuck me even louder"
Ayy, ayy, uh
Paid now (paid now), feet up (feet up)
All of your sneakers is beat up (they are)
Percocet (Percocet), geek up (geek up)
You see the police and we speed up
Uh, yeah, look
They tryna catch us and link us (they tryna catch us and link us)
Uh, yeah, they tryna find us
But they don't know where to meet us, uh (bow)
She wanna chill with me and all my niggas (she do)
She get extra freaky off the liquor (uh), uh
She told us that she got a man (what?)
So we extra sneaky when I'm with her
She a lil' bad broad (uh), she wanna go mad far (uh-uh)
Fivio Foreign in a fast car, I'm in a fast car, uh
Fresh in the game, still see it as a blessin', the same
Hundred thousand 'round my neck for the chain
Tryna go out like a vet in the game, put respect on my name
No security, I'm flexin' with gang, I'm a real one
Reminiscin' about all of my decisions
Embracin' the way of livin', I was runnin' through the field, dumb
Couple niggas disrespectin', we done killed them
Keep a shooter, they won't see, he my lil' one
30 shots, we ain't into usin' lil' guns
Nigga talkin' like he know me, he my real son
Rap beef, fuck the cap, I'ma drill some
Put the glizzy to your melon, make you feel dumb
Headshot, all black, he won't feel nothin'
Couple hollows to his back, we done filled him
Headshot or a lifelong sentence
What you need for them to label you a real one
Credits
Writer(s): Brendan Walsh, David Mcdowell, Thomas Horton, Taurus Bartlett, Tahj Vaughn, Maxie Ryles, Tione Dalyan Merritt, Jon Lazri, Luis Campozano, Aiden Emerson Crane
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