Faith
To believe in something as though it already existed
Bashar means "bringer of good news" (this is a Melo beat)
When you saw the word "Faith" on this cover
I'm sure you thought this was a gospel album
The word gospel means "the good news"
So in a sense, Bashar is bringing the good news
Telling you to believe in yourself
He believed in himself with an understanding
That greatness was his to manifest
He had a vision, a plan, and he made it work
Good news, faith, hope, and understanding
The smoke will never clear
Pop Smoke - Faith Album Lyrics
Pop Smoke - Faith Lyrics
Writer: Andre Michael Loblack, Audrey Jackson, Bashar Barakah Jackson
Copyright: Lyrics © CTM Publishing, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © CTM Publishing, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
More Time
Oh, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
Keep the intro
Oh, my boy, you already know
Ah
More time
Melly and D-Nice still in the cage, more time
That ain't gon' stop us from gettin' paid, more time
Certain things ain't never gonna change
Never speak to them guys without your lawyer
'Cause they givin' more time
My mans died, I put him on a chain, more time
A lot of niggas can't handle the pain, more time
I'm a hard animal to tame
Saw my son killer sittin' on the train
Give a nigga more time
Look
If my mans down, nigga, I help him get up
Max Payne, I'm totin' TECs and Berettas
Never trust a boy, it's always a setup
If I see an opp, I bet I'ma wet 'em
New speed, I bet I change up the level
Make it rain, I bet I change up the weather
To walk through, I need twenty-five and better
Old hundreds, have 'em stickin' together (grrt)
Louis V and Amiri the denim
My mans up top rockin' Gucci sweaters
Red bottoms, Rollies in the pen
Pinky ring, Cartier lens
Ride around big body Benz
Blacked out, all you see is tints
See, me, I ain't worried 'bout men
Act up, get a shot to your chin
Hollow tips got acquired taste
Gas straight, but my brother an ape
Catch a body, then I'm back in the cave
If you don't got a body, you can't relate
If you don't bang, you can't get in the car
Big Woo, know I'm shootin' them stars
Mama beggin' me to pray to Allah
Walk in the mall, niggas know who we are
Forty-one millimeter plain jane
Niggas get locked and start namin' names
Pussy nigga, get the f*ck out my way
Ma, I'm sorry, I'm just stuck in my ways
Hello
Black hair by the Regis and Pello
I like my bitch Spanish, she yellow
Her ass fat, feel like Jell-O (grrt)
She said she want Chane-ne
Pop Smoke on the TV (ah)
I did fifteen on my check-ins (yeah)
She said she didn't believe me
Until I pulled up in a foreign (ah)
And I cashed out on a TD
Snowman like Jeezy
VS, I'm freezin'
Red bottoms, I'm bleedin'
Louboutin when I'm steppin'
Stone Cold what I'm reppin'
Big .38 for the weapon (ah)
Man down, check the scoreboard
I'm a bulldog with this .44
Break legs like Paul George
Said, I break legs like Paul George
Grrt
Keep the intro
Oh, my boy, you already know
Ah
More time
Melly and D-Nice still in the cage, more time
That ain't gon' stop us from gettin' paid, more time
Certain things ain't never gonna change
Never speak to them guys without your lawyer
'Cause they givin' more time
My mans died, I put him on a chain, more time
A lot of niggas can't handle the pain, more time
I'm a hard animal to tame
Saw my son killer sittin' on the train
Give a nigga more time
Look
If my mans down, nigga, I help him get up
Max Payne, I'm totin' TECs and Berettas
Never trust a boy, it's always a setup
If I see an opp, I bet I'ma wet 'em
New speed, I bet I change up the level
Make it rain, I bet I change up the weather
To walk through, I need twenty-five and better
Old hundreds, have 'em stickin' together (grrt)
Louis V and Amiri the denim
My mans up top rockin' Gucci sweaters
Red bottoms, Rollies in the pen
Pinky ring, Cartier lens
Ride around big body Benz
Blacked out, all you see is tints
See, me, I ain't worried 'bout men
Act up, get a shot to your chin
Hollow tips got acquired taste
Gas straight, but my brother an ape
Catch a body, then I'm back in the cave
If you don't got a body, you can't relate
If you don't bang, you can't get in the car
Big Woo, know I'm shootin' them stars
Mama beggin' me to pray to Allah
Walk in the mall, niggas know who we are
Forty-one millimeter plain jane
Niggas get locked and start namin' names
Pussy nigga, get the f*ck out my way
Ma, I'm sorry, I'm just stuck in my ways
Hello
Black hair by the Regis and Pello
I like my bitch Spanish, she yellow
Her ass fat, feel like Jell-O (grrt)
She said she want Chane-ne
Pop Smoke on the TV (ah)
I did fifteen on my check-ins (yeah)
She said she didn't believe me
Until I pulled up in a foreign (ah)
And I cashed out on a TD
Snowman like Jeezy
VS, I'm freezin'
Red bottoms, I'm bleedin'
Louboutin when I'm steppin'
Stone Cold what I'm reppin'
Big .38 for the weapon (ah)
Man down, check the scoreboard
I'm a bulldog with this .44
Break legs like Paul George
Said, I break legs like Paul George
Grrt
Writer: Bashar Barakah Jackson, Jason Avalos, Nicholas Britell, Ricardo Lamarre, Steven William Victor
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Tell the Vision
Trippin'
Wildin' on television
You could
Still see a nigga tell the vision
Pimpin' (pimpin')
Boy, these boys, pimpin'
Different, yeah
These boys, boys
"Pop was here last week
He was talkin' about Brooklyn and the place Brooklyn was at
How they were really like, thriving right now
Or he was, you know
He was tryna, pull people up with him
And he wasn't even to where he was 'bout to be
He just was trying to, he was trying to get there
I mean, he was on his, he was well on his way
Um, it's just tragic
Twenty years old, rest in peace
God bless Pop Smoke"
Look, nigga, we made it (grrt, woo, baow)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (woo)
Nigga, we made it (woo)
Thank God that I made it (grrt, baow)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (woo)
Look, mama, I made it (grrt)
Look, I remember the days
Same fit for a week straight
I used to eat fifty-cent cake
Now, it's Philippe's
It's Philippe's for the steak
And hella thots up in the Wraith
I can't wife that thot
Tell that bitch, "Get out of my face"
We killed your big brother
We killed your little brother
Now, it's Philippe's
It's Philippe's for the steak
And hella thots up in the Wraith
Said I hop in a Lamb' and skrrt off
I spent fifty up in Bergdorf
I got shit you never heard of
Buy it, I don't care what it cost, no
And I always keep a pole, rain, snow
I did a hunnid on a probe
If you droppin' a Woo, we come where you live
Glock 9, infrared
Pull up, and empty the clip, woo
Dread had the strap all summer
In the Floss movin' reckless
Please do not play wit' me
Nigga, I keep a K wit' me
Look, nigga, we made it (grrt, woo, baow)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (woo)
Nigga, we made it (woo)
Thank God that I made it (grrt, baow)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (woo)
Look, mama, I made it (grrt)
Nigga, we made it
Huh?
We come from the trenches, nigga
Trap, trap (woo)
Same fit for a week straight (grrt)
You know what I'm sayin'?
Fifty-cent cake, now, we eatin' Philippe's steak (hahahaha)
Look, Tyler got the album of the year, for now
But Pop about to drop, I see the platinum in the clouds
Now Push about to drop, so real trappers stick around
The crown is only for the king, they tryna place it on a clown
I declare war, nickname "He Sell Raw"
Different city, same ghetto, bring the Woos on tour
Push start, drop top, 812, two-door
Baby Rover, Benz, Coupe, bitch, you gotta choose yours
How can I not? Woo, how can I not?
When a brick is thirty-six, bitch, how could I stop?
These Richard Milles are one-of-one, shit, how could I watch?
We made it, we made it, whether you like it or not
Look, nigga, we made it (grrt, woo, baow)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (woo)
Nigga, we made it (woo)
Thank God that I made it (grrt, baow)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (woo)
Look, mama, I made it (grrt)
Wildin' on television
You could
Still see a nigga tell the vision
Pimpin' (pimpin')
Boy, these boys, pimpin'
Different, yeah
These boys, boys
"Pop was here last week
He was talkin' about Brooklyn and the place Brooklyn was at
How they were really like, thriving right now
Or he was, you know
He was tryna, pull people up with him
And he wasn't even to where he was 'bout to be
He just was trying to, he was trying to get there
I mean, he was on his, he was well on his way
Um, it's just tragic
Twenty years old, rest in peace
God bless Pop Smoke"
Look, nigga, we made it (grrt, woo, baow)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (woo)
Nigga, we made it (woo)
Thank God that I made it (grrt, baow)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (woo)
Look, mama, I made it (grrt)
Look, I remember the days
Same fit for a week straight
I used to eat fifty-cent cake
Now, it's Philippe's
It's Philippe's for the steak
And hella thots up in the Wraith
I can't wife that thot
Tell that bitch, "Get out of my face"
We killed your big brother
We killed your little brother
Now, it's Philippe's
It's Philippe's for the steak
And hella thots up in the Wraith
Said I hop in a Lamb' and skrrt off
I spent fifty up in Bergdorf
I got shit you never heard of
Buy it, I don't care what it cost, no
And I always keep a pole, rain, snow
I did a hunnid on a probe
If you droppin' a Woo, we come where you live
Glock 9, infrared
Pull up, and empty the clip, woo
Dread had the strap all summer
In the Floss movin' reckless
Please do not play wit' me
Nigga, I keep a K wit' me
Look, nigga, we made it (grrt, woo, baow)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (woo)
Nigga, we made it (woo)
Thank God that I made it (grrt, baow)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (woo)
Look, mama, I made it (grrt)
Nigga, we made it
Huh?
We come from the trenches, nigga
Trap, trap (woo)
Same fit for a week straight (grrt)
You know what I'm sayin'?
Fifty-cent cake, now, we eatin' Philippe's steak (hahahaha)
Look, Tyler got the album of the year, for now
But Pop about to drop, I see the platinum in the clouds
Now Push about to drop, so real trappers stick around
The crown is only for the king, they tryna place it on a clown
I declare war, nickname "He Sell Raw"
Different city, same ghetto, bring the Woos on tour
Push start, drop top, 812, two-door
Baby Rover, Benz, Coupe, bitch, you gotta choose yours
How can I not? Woo, how can I not?
When a brick is thirty-six, bitch, how could I stop?
These Richard Milles are one-of-one, shit, how could I watch?
We made it, we made it, whether you like it or not
Look, nigga, we made it (grrt, woo, baow)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (woo)
Nigga, we made it (woo)
Thank God that I made it (grrt, baow)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (woo)
Look, mama, I made it (grrt)
Writer: Angie Martinez, Jalil Peraza, Luke Doyley, Ricardo Lamarre, Samuel Jackson, Steven William Victor, Terrence Thornton, Thomas Anthony Whitfield, Bashar Barakah Jackson, Isaac De Boni, Jahmal Desmond Gwin, Kanye Omari West, Malik Yusef El Shabbaz Jones, Mark Carl Stolinski Williams, Michael John Mule, Raul Ignacio Cubina
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, O/B/O CAPASSO, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, O/B/O CAPASSO, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Manslaughter
So how can I be anything I wanna be
If I die in my dreams?
Uh
Heard you talkin' 'bout my name
It's gon' be a manslaughter or homicide
If you f*ckin' with me or one of mines (RIP to the legend Smoke, uh)
It's gon' be a manslaughter (biggest)
Or homicide (may your name live forever, baby)
If you f*ckin' with me or one of mines (I felt you, yes)
So many problems I can kill with just a text
Not many barbers put a razor to my neck
So many fathers raised us heartless in the 'jects
So when it come to opps, murder I expect
Pop Smoke gunshot, focused on one spot
White glove, dice game, Wilt Chamberlain on the block
The Rain Man, my stocks is one to watch
Carry a casket or nigga carry some shots
Bumboclaat niggas in drop tops
I deserve to shine, labels turn to shrines
Still keepin' it real, every word and line
Can I freeze the watch? You niggas burnin' time
It's gon' be a manslaughter (biggest)
Or homicide (R.I.P. to the real)
If you f*ckin' with me (may your name live forever, you hear me?)
Or one of mines (Lord)
It's gon' be a manslaughter or homicide (huh)
If you f*ckin' with me or one of mines
Four-door, hitters in the back
Big body and it's tinted black
Politickin', we ain't into that
Smokin' opps 'til the clip end
Forty carats on my wrist, damn
Me and Dread into liftin'
Me and Dread into liftin'
Four-door, hitters in the back
Big body and it's tinted black
Politickin', we ain't into that
Smokin' opps 'til the clip end
Forty carats on my wrist, damn
Me and Dread into liftin'
Me and Dread into liftin'
It's gon' be a manslaughter or homicide
If you f*ckin' with me or one of mines
It's gon' be a manslaughter or homicide
If you f*ckin' with me or one of mines
To my niggas, make sure your debts is paid
To my children, make sure your bed get made
And to my girl, I'm missin' you these days
I'm missin' you these days (girl, I'm missin' you these days)
To my niggas, make sure your debts is paid
To my children, make sure your bed get made
And to my girl, I'm missin' you these days
I'm missin' you these days
Funny how the worst shit, happens to the best of them
Ooh, na-na, na, na-na-na
Crazy how the best shit happen to the rest of them
Ooh, na-na, na, na-na-na
So how can I be anything (how can I be anything)
I wanna be (I just wanna be, baby)
If I die (I just wanna be free)
In my dreams? (Oh, oh, oh-woah, ooh-woah)
Hey
Just wanna fly free
I just want to be me
I just want to live out all my dreams
Oh, ooh-ooh, oh, ooh-woah
Oh, ooh-ooh, oh, ooh-woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
If I die in my dreams?
Uh
Heard you talkin' 'bout my name
It's gon' be a manslaughter or homicide
If you f*ckin' with me or one of mines (RIP to the legend Smoke, uh)
It's gon' be a manslaughter (biggest)
Or homicide (may your name live forever, baby)
If you f*ckin' with me or one of mines (I felt you, yes)
So many problems I can kill with just a text
Not many barbers put a razor to my neck
So many fathers raised us heartless in the 'jects
So when it come to opps, murder I expect
Pop Smoke gunshot, focused on one spot
White glove, dice game, Wilt Chamberlain on the block
The Rain Man, my stocks is one to watch
Carry a casket or nigga carry some shots
Bumboclaat niggas in drop tops
I deserve to shine, labels turn to shrines
Still keepin' it real, every word and line
Can I freeze the watch? You niggas burnin' time
It's gon' be a manslaughter (biggest)
Or homicide (R.I.P. to the real)
If you f*ckin' with me (may your name live forever, you hear me?)
Or one of mines (Lord)
It's gon' be a manslaughter or homicide (huh)
If you f*ckin' with me or one of mines
Four-door, hitters in the back
Big body and it's tinted black
Politickin', we ain't into that
Smokin' opps 'til the clip end
Forty carats on my wrist, damn
Me and Dread into liftin'
Me and Dread into liftin'
Four-door, hitters in the back
Big body and it's tinted black
Politickin', we ain't into that
Smokin' opps 'til the clip end
Forty carats on my wrist, damn
Me and Dread into liftin'
Me and Dread into liftin'
It's gon' be a manslaughter or homicide
If you f*ckin' with me or one of mines
It's gon' be a manslaughter or homicide
If you f*ckin' with me or one of mines
To my niggas, make sure your debts is paid
To my children, make sure your bed get made
And to my girl, I'm missin' you these days
I'm missin' you these days (girl, I'm missin' you these days)
To my niggas, make sure your debts is paid
To my children, make sure your bed get made
And to my girl, I'm missin' you these days
I'm missin' you these days
Funny how the worst shit, happens to the best of them
Ooh, na-na, na, na-na-na
Crazy how the best shit happen to the rest of them
Ooh, na-na, na, na-na-na
So how can I be anything (how can I be anything)
I wanna be (I just wanna be, baby)
If I die (I just wanna be free)
In my dreams? (Oh, oh, oh-woah, ooh-woah)
Hey
Just wanna fly free
I just want to be me
I just want to live out all my dreams
Oh, ooh-ooh, oh, ooh-woah
Oh, ooh-ooh, oh, ooh-woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Writer: Bashar Barakah Jackson, Jacob Brian Dutton, Ryan Presson, Steven William Victor, Terius Youngdell Nash, William Leonard Roberts, Daoud Ayodele Miles Anthony
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Bout a Million
The cheapest ring on my body cost a hunnid (yeah)
I got 'bout a million worth in jewels
Look, I made a quarter up in London (yeah)
Then I bought twenty chops for the hood
Look
Run down (run down), tag 'em (tag 'em)
I give 'em twenty if he catch 'em (catch 'em)
.44 (.44), blast him (blast him)
Hit 'em up, then I'm dancin' (baow)
I'm poppin' (poppin'), I'm flashy (flashy)
The bitches love me 'cause I'm catchy, yeah (catchy)
Bad bitch (bad bitch), sassy (sassy)
She got that fire like a dragon (dragon)
Look, big body, wagon (huh)
I remember I ain't have it (huh)
Twenty-one, I'm a savage (I'ma a savage)
I got twenty-one in the carats (carats)
Throwin' bullets (bullets)
Throwin' bullets like I'm Madden (huh)
Leave that nigga in a casket
The cheapest ring on my body cost a hunnid (yeah)
I got 'bout a million worth in jewels
Look, I made a quarter up in London (yeah)
Then I bought twenty chops for the hood
The cheapest ring on my body cost a hunnid (yeah)
I got 'bout a million worth in jewels
Look, I made a quarter up in London (yeah)
Then I bought twenty chops for the hood
For all my niggas, for all my niggas baow, bitch
Blitz, Crips, fast, drop, rest the blocks
We still steppin', we still stretch shit
What's on me? A FN, a FN, a F&N
Took my bitch up out the Taurus, put her in a Benz
That bitch there ain't worth a quarter, I f*ck with tens
Right after she said, "I couldn't", I f*cked again
Earrings on me look like boogers, bitch, I'm worth some M's
21, bang, do whatever for the gang (on God)
Nudy gon' pop out with that stick and I know that he won't say a name (shh)
Buddy got put in a box, he came to the wrong hood lookin' for fame (pussy)
Ain't no secret, big 4L, them f*ckboys know what I claim (pussy)
Richard Mille, cost a lot it show, but (21)
Four-five, make you do the hold up (21)
Pop smoke, gun smoke, same thang (same thang)
I'm on the slops, eatin' cold cuts (cut)
Say you got a body, nigga, so what? (21)
Terrorize shit, we got a whole bunch (bitch)
None of my opps ain't on nothin' (pussy)
You broke ass bitches got one gun (21, 21)
She get so wet and she slippery (slippery)
She screamin' and yellin', "Put dick in me" (21)
Most of these jewelers is sick of me (21)
Savage spend money ridiculously (on God)
I ain't with all of the bickery (straight up)
They disappear, I know trickery (straight up)
He made a diss and it tickle me (on God)
I don't let bullshit get to me (21)
Switches on the Glocks, rest in piss to all my opps (21)
We treat beef like albums, nigga, all that shit get dropped (on God)
I ain't got no brain, I spent your budget on my watch (pussy, 21)
The cheapest ring on my body cost a hunnid (yeah)
I got 'bout a million worth in jewels
Look, I made a quarter up in London (yeah) (made a quarter)
Then I bought twenty chops for the hood (on God)
The cheapest ring on my body cost a hunnid (yeah)
I got 'bout a million worth in jewels
Look, I made a quarter up in London (yeah)
Then I bought twenty chops for the hood
I got 'bout a million worth in jewels
Look, I made a quarter up in London (yeah)
Then I bought twenty chops for the hood
Look
Run down (run down), tag 'em (tag 'em)
I give 'em twenty if he catch 'em (catch 'em)
.44 (.44), blast him (blast him)
Hit 'em up, then I'm dancin' (baow)
I'm poppin' (poppin'), I'm flashy (flashy)
The bitches love me 'cause I'm catchy, yeah (catchy)
Bad bitch (bad bitch), sassy (sassy)
She got that fire like a dragon (dragon)
Look, big body, wagon (huh)
I remember I ain't have it (huh)
Twenty-one, I'm a savage (I'ma a savage)
I got twenty-one in the carats (carats)
Throwin' bullets (bullets)
Throwin' bullets like I'm Madden (huh)
Leave that nigga in a casket
The cheapest ring on my body cost a hunnid (yeah)
I got 'bout a million worth in jewels
Look, I made a quarter up in London (yeah)
Then I bought twenty chops for the hood
The cheapest ring on my body cost a hunnid (yeah)
I got 'bout a million worth in jewels
Look, I made a quarter up in London (yeah)
Then I bought twenty chops for the hood
For all my niggas, for all my niggas baow, bitch
Blitz, Crips, fast, drop, rest the blocks
We still steppin', we still stretch shit
What's on me? A FN, a FN, a F&N
Took my bitch up out the Taurus, put her in a Benz
That bitch there ain't worth a quarter, I f*ck with tens
Right after she said, "I couldn't", I f*cked again
Earrings on me look like boogers, bitch, I'm worth some M's
21, bang, do whatever for the gang (on God)
Nudy gon' pop out with that stick and I know that he won't say a name (shh)
Buddy got put in a box, he came to the wrong hood lookin' for fame (pussy)
Ain't no secret, big 4L, them f*ckboys know what I claim (pussy)
Richard Mille, cost a lot it show, but (21)
Four-five, make you do the hold up (21)
Pop smoke, gun smoke, same thang (same thang)
I'm on the slops, eatin' cold cuts (cut)
Say you got a body, nigga, so what? (21)
Terrorize shit, we got a whole bunch (bitch)
None of my opps ain't on nothin' (pussy)
You broke ass bitches got one gun (21, 21)
She get so wet and she slippery (slippery)
She screamin' and yellin', "Put dick in me" (21)
Most of these jewelers is sick of me (21)
Savage spend money ridiculously (on God)
I ain't with all of the bickery (straight up)
They disappear, I know trickery (straight up)
He made a diss and it tickle me (on God)
I don't let bullshit get to me (21)
Switches on the Glocks, rest in piss to all my opps (21)
We treat beef like albums, nigga, all that shit get dropped (on God)
I ain't got no brain, I spent your budget on my watch (pussy, 21)
The cheapest ring on my body cost a hunnid (yeah)
I got 'bout a million worth in jewels
Look, I made a quarter up in London (yeah) (made a quarter)
Then I bought twenty chops for the hood (on God)
The cheapest ring on my body cost a hunnid (yeah)
I got 'bout a million worth in jewels
Look, I made a quarter up in London (yeah)
Then I bought twenty chops for the hood
Writer: Bashar Barakah Jackson, Dion Marquise Hayes, Jess Jackson, Ryan Presson, Shayaa Bin Abraham-Joseph, Steven William Victor, Mandalla Abdulaziz
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Brush Em
Brokie, brokie
Nine shots in the Ruger
I step on court they like, "Watch the shooter"
Look, big 092MLBOA
Gq, you got a gun, nigga, gun, nigga? Me too
Brodie gon' what? Brodie gon' back out, brodie gon' brush 'em
Look, brodie gon', brodie gon', rrr
Dig in that Louis bag, Louis bag
Nigga, dig in that bag, duffle
Brodie gon' back out, cut 'em
Brodie gon', woo, I bet Moe gon' shoot
Said I'm big 092, know that I'm Woo
Don't come to my block, we gon' give 'em the boot
I keep me a Glock, shoot out the roof
Two .38's, three .22's
Big NBA, we did it first
Watch what you say, you could get hurt
F*ck all my opps, they get it worst
My bitch got the chop, shit in the purse
Pull up on Rex, don't even trip
If I call Stretch, empty the clip
Those not my opps, free Thano Brim
The f*ck is Zanotti? Nigga a snitch
Don't get put on a shirt, watch niggas lurk
I keep a Glock, when I'm in church
Spin through your block, step on the clutch
Hit that boy up, then I reverse
Brodie got locked for the choppa
I lost four of my straps, gotta go get a fifth one
I be f*ckin on opp bitches
Kick 'em and pass 'em to Pop, it's too many to pick from
Uh, say that, I'll call a Ape with a Maybach
I'm 823, I get straight cash
If you got that work, I'ma take that
We pull up to houses and baby showers
Woo from the Floss, we don't play with ours
You won't ever catch me broad day without it
GDK and I don't even play about it
Uh, uh, Day-Day
Have you screamin' through mega like, "Mayday"
Who the f*ck are you talkin' to crazy?
If you don't want no beef, nigga, pay me
The f*ck is these niggas gon' get back
Empty the clip, they shit wacked
Take all the breesh, I got big packs
Shoot through the V, make 'em sit back
Uh, rumble
Step on the field watch 'em crumble
I'm so drip like I stepped in a puddle
I back out and hit you and your uncle
Window down, let the semi spit
.40 Glock with a fifty clip
Get the addy then I get 'em hit
Had to shoot a nigga for a mixy bitch
Uh, Treesha, shorty wan' suck on my nina
I pull up like Ace in a finas
I leave her shit wet, Aquafina
And I got that pussy on Fiji
If you got a gun, come and meet me
Breesh spendin', pull up in like three V's
Opp treesha, she dyin' to eat me
I don't talk to niggas, I don't play with niggas
Got a bad bitch that'll tase a nigga
Stone Cold, blue flag, 09 to the A, nigga, Woo back
Uh, the f*ck wrong with dem pussy boy dem, ehn?
Dem talk 'bout bumboclaat Rah Swish and Pop Smoke,
Uh, ah what dem mean? Uh
Tell dem pussy deh, "Go suck yuh mada!" (Go suck, go suck yuh mada!)
Nine shots in the Ruger
I step on court they like, "Watch the shooter"
Look, big 092MLBOA
Gq, you got a gun, nigga, gun, nigga? Me too
Brodie gon' what? Brodie gon' back out, brodie gon' brush 'em
Look, brodie gon', brodie gon', rrr
Dig in that Louis bag, Louis bag
Nigga, dig in that bag, duffle
Brodie gon' back out, cut 'em
Brodie gon', woo, I bet Moe gon' shoot
Said I'm big 092, know that I'm Woo
Don't come to my block, we gon' give 'em the boot
I keep me a Glock, shoot out the roof
Two .38's, three .22's
Big NBA, we did it first
Watch what you say, you could get hurt
F*ck all my opps, they get it worst
My bitch got the chop, shit in the purse
Pull up on Rex, don't even trip
If I call Stretch, empty the clip
Those not my opps, free Thano Brim
The f*ck is Zanotti? Nigga a snitch
Don't get put on a shirt, watch niggas lurk
I keep a Glock, when I'm in church
Spin through your block, step on the clutch
Hit that boy up, then I reverse
Brodie got locked for the choppa
I lost four of my straps, gotta go get a fifth one
I be f*ckin on opp bitches
Kick 'em and pass 'em to Pop, it's too many to pick from
Uh, say that, I'll call a Ape with a Maybach
I'm 823, I get straight cash
If you got that work, I'ma take that
We pull up to houses and baby showers
Woo from the Floss, we don't play with ours
You won't ever catch me broad day without it
GDK and I don't even play about it
Uh, uh, Day-Day
Have you screamin' through mega like, "Mayday"
Who the f*ck are you talkin' to crazy?
If you don't want no beef, nigga, pay me
The f*ck is these niggas gon' get back
Empty the clip, they shit wacked
Take all the breesh, I got big packs
Shoot through the V, make 'em sit back
Uh, rumble
Step on the field watch 'em crumble
I'm so drip like I stepped in a puddle
I back out and hit you and your uncle
Window down, let the semi spit
.40 Glock with a fifty clip
Get the addy then I get 'em hit
Had to shoot a nigga for a mixy bitch
Uh, Treesha, shorty wan' suck on my nina
I pull up like Ace in a finas
I leave her shit wet, Aquafina
And I got that pussy on Fiji
If you got a gun, come and meet me
Breesh spendin', pull up in like three V's
Opp treesha, she dyin' to eat me
I don't talk to niggas, I don't play with niggas
Got a bad bitch that'll tase a nigga
Stone Cold, blue flag, 09 to the A, nigga, Woo back
Uh, the f*ck wrong with dem pussy boy dem, ehn?
Dem talk 'bout bumboclaat Rah Swish and Pop Smoke,
Uh, ah what dem mean? Uh
Tell dem pussy deh, "Go suck yuh mada!" (Go suck, go suck yuh mada!)
Writer: Andre Michael Loblack, Bashar Barakah Jackson, Jess Jackson, Rahlique Devawn Wilks
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Top Shotta
Ring, bibidi-bibidi, bibidi-ba
Ring, bibidi-ba
A top boy, a top shotta
Unnuh nuh bad like we
Ah duppy maker like Ghost Busters
Look (grim party)
Don't think I'm playin', nigga, I ain't playin', nigga
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby (uh)
Will I shoot a nigga? Prolly (prolly)
Bitch, I'm a top shotta (top shotta)
Badmon bwoy (badmon bwoy)
Talk for what? (Talk for what?)
Shoot, send shots (shoot, send shots)
Shoot, bend blocks (blocks)
Don't think I'm playin', nigga, I ain't play with em'
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby
Free smoke (uh), send shots, bend blocks
Send 'em back (back), all of my niggas we into that (into that)
Get to clappin' niggas, get to slappin' niggas
Get to clippin' niggas, get to switchin' niggas (grrt)
Smackin' niggas, 7-Eleven (7-Eleven)
I cannot work no nine to five (nah), 'cause I'm trappin' 24/7 (24/7)
I gotta get to the cash (cash), I gotta get to the breesh (breesh)
Send a nigga up to heaven, preach (preach)
Uh, and I smoke that Grade A (A)
Shoot a nigga, Jay A (A)
Don't think I'm playin', nigga, I ain't playin', nigga
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby (lobby)
Will I shoot a nigga? Prolly (prolly)
Bitch, I'm a top shotta (top shotta)
Badmon bwoy (badmon bwoy)
Talk for what? (Talk for what?)
Shoot, send shots (shoot, send shots)
Shoot, bend blocks (uh)
Don't think I'm playin', nigga, I ain't play with em'
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby
Top shotta, top shotta
Turn around when you hear the choppa
Find the pussy pon' the block, brrt
(Bullet, bullet, bullet, bullet, bullet)
Me and Poppy, real top shotta
Know the ting pon mi
Crocodile teeth with the beam pon mi
Teacha dem affi call mi
Top shotta, real popper
When it come to family
Rise the ting, see mi brudda
Member days, winter nights
Hunger buss, mi had to bite
Affi go murk, puttin' in work
Top shotta inna di night
How many, many, many, men wish death pon me?
Find dem, mi nuh hide out
Dread head niggas in the lobby
We go skrrt-skrrt, Ricky Bobby
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby (lobby)
Will I shoot a nigga? Prolly (prolly)
Bitch, I'm a top shotta (top shotta)
Badmon bwoy (badmon bwoy)
Talk for what? (Talk for what?) (Yeah)
Shoot, send shots (shoot, send shots) (Push)
Shoot, bend blocks (shoot, bend blocks)
Don't think I'm playin', nigga, I ain't play with em'
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby
Frank White got body
Teflon John Gotti
Dope boy, illuminati
Slick Rick with the jewels
It's the show, la-di-da-di
Got nothin' else to prove
Shit, I'll still catch a body
When I walk through my lobby
Hid a brick for me, prolly
It's a hunnid on the dolly
Willy Wonka, two Charlies
I'm the soul and the spirit
Cocaine's Bob Marley
Dope boys don't retire
Bad bitches won't allow me
All my rebels like Rowdy
All my guns is like Saudis
Four albums, four rings
Still could never do an Audi
All my diamonds so clear
But my kitchen still cloudy
Always had the best numbers
I just waited 'til they found me
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby (lobby)
Will I shoot a nigga? Prolly (prolly)
Bitch, I'm a top shotta (top shotta)
Badmon bwoy (badmon bwoy)
Talk for what? (Talk for what?)
Shoot, send shots (shoot, send shots)
Shoot, bend blocks (blocks)
Don't think I'm playin', nigga, I ain't play with em'
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby
Time for me stackin' this paper
I don't got time for these haters, huh, nah
You talkin' to that Rollie wearin', God fearin'
Cuban link, nine cars, paper tag
Mr. Take Your Bitch And Give It Back
I ain't tryna brag but a nigga bag is different
I'm the big-ticket, huh
You got a Benz and I got a Benz
But they know the difference, huh
Tell Pedro to send it
Throw it, Michael Redd
I'ma sell a bag for the Scottie Pippen
Yeah, that's chicken
Eleven points like I'm Kyrie
Who scared? Nigga not me
Yeah, I'm humble mixed with cocky
I know my young boys got me
I'm up next, nigga, watch me
Chow on 'em with my posse
Move, groove
When you see me better ,"Woo"
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby (lobby)
Will I shoot a nigga? Prolly (prolly)
Bitch, I'm a top shotta (top shotta)
Badmon bwoy (badmon bwoy)
Talk for what? (Talk for what?)
Shoot, send shots (shoot, send shots)
Shoot, bend blocks (blocks)
Don't think I'm playin', nigga, I ain't play with em'
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby (lobby)
Will I shoot a nigga? Prolly (prolly)
Bitch, I'm a top shotta (top shotta)
Badmon bwoy (badmon bwoy)
Talk for what? (Talk for what?)
Shoot, send shots (shoot, send shots)
Shoot, bend blocks (blocks)
Don't think I'm playin', nigga, I ain't play with em'
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby
Ring, bibidi-ba
A top boy, a top shotta
Unnuh nuh bad like we
Ah duppy maker like Ghost Busters
Look (grim party)
Don't think I'm playin', nigga, I ain't playin', nigga
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby (uh)
Will I shoot a nigga? Prolly (prolly)
Bitch, I'm a top shotta (top shotta)
Badmon bwoy (badmon bwoy)
Talk for what? (Talk for what?)
Shoot, send shots (shoot, send shots)
Shoot, bend blocks (blocks)
Don't think I'm playin', nigga, I ain't play with em'
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby
Free smoke (uh), send shots, bend blocks
Send 'em back (back), all of my niggas we into that (into that)
Get to clappin' niggas, get to slappin' niggas
Get to clippin' niggas, get to switchin' niggas (grrt)
Smackin' niggas, 7-Eleven (7-Eleven)
I cannot work no nine to five (nah), 'cause I'm trappin' 24/7 (24/7)
I gotta get to the cash (cash), I gotta get to the breesh (breesh)
Send a nigga up to heaven, preach (preach)
Uh, and I smoke that Grade A (A)
Shoot a nigga, Jay A (A)
Don't think I'm playin', nigga, I ain't playin', nigga
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby (lobby)
Will I shoot a nigga? Prolly (prolly)
Bitch, I'm a top shotta (top shotta)
Badmon bwoy (badmon bwoy)
Talk for what? (Talk for what?)
Shoot, send shots (shoot, send shots)
Shoot, bend blocks (uh)
Don't think I'm playin', nigga, I ain't play with em'
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby
Top shotta, top shotta
Turn around when you hear the choppa
Find the pussy pon' the block, brrt
(Bullet, bullet, bullet, bullet, bullet)
Me and Poppy, real top shotta
Know the ting pon mi
Crocodile teeth with the beam pon mi
Teacha dem affi call mi
Top shotta, real popper
When it come to family
Rise the ting, see mi brudda
Member days, winter nights
Hunger buss, mi had to bite
Affi go murk, puttin' in work
Top shotta inna di night
How many, many, many, men wish death pon me?
Find dem, mi nuh hide out
Dread head niggas in the lobby
We go skrrt-skrrt, Ricky Bobby
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby (lobby)
Will I shoot a nigga? Prolly (prolly)
Bitch, I'm a top shotta (top shotta)
Badmon bwoy (badmon bwoy)
Talk for what? (Talk for what?) (Yeah)
Shoot, send shots (shoot, send shots) (Push)
Shoot, bend blocks (shoot, bend blocks)
Don't think I'm playin', nigga, I ain't play with em'
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby
Frank White got body
Teflon John Gotti
Dope boy, illuminati
Slick Rick with the jewels
It's the show, la-di-da-di
Got nothin' else to prove
Shit, I'll still catch a body
When I walk through my lobby
Hid a brick for me, prolly
It's a hunnid on the dolly
Willy Wonka, two Charlies
I'm the soul and the spirit
Cocaine's Bob Marley
Dope boys don't retire
Bad bitches won't allow me
All my rebels like Rowdy
All my guns is like Saudis
Four albums, four rings
Still could never do an Audi
All my diamonds so clear
But my kitchen still cloudy
Always had the best numbers
I just waited 'til they found me
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby (lobby)
Will I shoot a nigga? Prolly (prolly)
Bitch, I'm a top shotta (top shotta)
Badmon bwoy (badmon bwoy)
Talk for what? (Talk for what?)
Shoot, send shots (shoot, send shots)
Shoot, bend blocks (blocks)
Don't think I'm playin', nigga, I ain't play with em'
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby
Time for me stackin' this paper
I don't got time for these haters, huh, nah
You talkin' to that Rollie wearin', God fearin'
Cuban link, nine cars, paper tag
Mr. Take Your Bitch And Give It Back
I ain't tryna brag but a nigga bag is different
I'm the big-ticket, huh
You got a Benz and I got a Benz
But they know the difference, huh
Tell Pedro to send it
Throw it, Michael Redd
I'ma sell a bag for the Scottie Pippen
Yeah, that's chicken
Eleven points like I'm Kyrie
Who scared? Nigga not me
Yeah, I'm humble mixed with cocky
I know my young boys got me
I'm up next, nigga, watch me
Chow on 'em with my posse
Move, groove
When you see me better ,"Woo"
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby (lobby)
Will I shoot a nigga? Prolly (prolly)
Bitch, I'm a top shotta (top shotta)
Badmon bwoy (badmon bwoy)
Talk for what? (Talk for what?)
Shoot, send shots (shoot, send shots)
Shoot, bend blocks (blocks)
Don't think I'm playin', nigga, I ain't play with em'
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby (lobby)
Will I shoot a nigga? Prolly (prolly)
Bitch, I'm a top shotta (top shotta)
Badmon bwoy (badmon bwoy)
Talk for what? (Talk for what?)
Shoot, send shots (shoot, send shots)
Shoot, bend blocks (blocks)
Don't think I'm playin', nigga, I ain't play with em'
Tell 'em meet me in the lobby
Writer: Bashar Barakah Jackson, Chad Hugo, Pharrell L. Williams, Terrence Le Varr Thornton, Travis Esprit, Tyshane Thompson
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
30
This is Woo (Woo)
This is Crip
Ayo, shit
From the cut
Ayo, shit
Huh? (grrt)
F*ck is you talkin' 'bout, nigga? (Baow)
Huh? (baow)
Stupid (baow)
It's thirty-two in the clip, nigga (woo, grrt, woo, baow)
Baow, movie
Pop Smoke, Bizzy
Like, like
Dawg, pass me the sitchy, I'm clutch (woo)
Tell 'em, "Come spin my block", (hahahaha)
Tell 'em, "Come send them shots"
You ain't no shooter (at all), baow
You just tote that chop (woo)
You don't want beef, you just want some props (haha)
I ain't get touched, how you my opp?
Bitch, I'm too sauced
Nah, I don't dance, the Glock in my pants
The most I might do is the Woo Walk (yeah)
The most I might do is the Woo Walk (yeah)
And I know they mad, uh (I know they mad)
Look, but please don't act silly (please don't act silly)
If I spin in a black flag (yeah, grrt)
They gon' think I'm a dizzy
Bitch, I'm a sleaze, baow (sleaze)
Give a f*ck who you be (give a f*ck who you be)
Yeah, I f*ck wit' them real niggas (real niggas), who f*ckin' wit' me
Don't ask if I'm GDK (at all, at all), nah, nigga, I'm EBK (EBK)
F*ck the judge and the DEA (f*ck them niggas), suck dick if you feel a way
I'm a lil' body but I tote like a big body 'cause I put in that pain (baow)
I walk with that lil' body but I back out
That big body if you speak on my name (grrt)
These niggas know nothin' 'bout me
But they gon' keep talkin' bout me and that shit ain't gon' change (woo)
I been in the cell it ain't shit you can tell me (woo)
If you ain't got hands, invest in .11s (woo)
Toughest nigga in yo' squad gon' be tellin'
The older niggas that be with me some felons
I really talk on the beats (beats)
If you not in the streets, you won't understand it
I get the chop if that nigga gon' panic
Headshot, cause a whole lotta damage, like (uh)
Headshot, cause a whole lotta damage
Yeah, I got Ruger wit' me, Leeky wit' me, bitch (haha)
We don't spin in no Ubers
And I got Rilla wit' me, JuJu wit' me, bitch (that's a whole lotta shooters)
We might hit ya medulla
You can't get busy wit' me, Jiggy wit' me
Demon wit' me, Hundo' wit' me, uh (nah)
The first nigga actin' silly, catch a figgy
Pass the glizzy and just watch how he run (grrr)
Watch how he-
Dawg, pass me the sitchy, I'm clutch (pass me the sitchy, I'm clutch) (baow)
Tell 'em, "Come spin my block", (woo)
Tell 'em, "Come send them shots" (hahahaha)
You ain't no shooter, baow (bitch) (nah)
You just tote that chop (you lyin')
You don't want beef, you just want some props (facts)
I ain't get touched, how you my opp? (Baow)
Bitch, I'm too sauced (too sauced)
Nah, I don't dance, the Glock in my pants
The most I might do is the Woo Walk (woo)
The most I might do is the Woo Walk (Woo back, baby)
And I know they mad, uh (I know they mad)
Look, but please don't act silly (hahaha) (please don't act silly)
If I spin in a black flag (you can get shot)
They gon' think I'm a dizzy
Tell that nigga to spin (spin)
That's when the party begin (that's when the party begin)
Yeah, my Glock full of sins (sins)
bullets hit your chin (huh)
I walk away grinnin' (grrt, baow)
If you check my CK (K, K)
Then it's f*ck what you said (f*ck, huh)
Bizzy send shots when you lay (Bizzy send shots)
Bizzy send shots when you lay (Bizzy send shots)
Look, said I'm 823, sanctioned (sanctioned)
Reach for my chain, we gon' spank 'em (spank 'em)
I ain't your regular gang member (nah)
Everybody knows I'm sanctioned (bangin')
If I step on an island, we wildin' out (out)
I ain't gon' step 'til the guns is out (out)
Free Psych Bike, free Ziggy Za
My niggas raisin' the body count (free all my niggas)
.44 bulldog, make 'em get back (back)
I ain't with the talk or the chit-chat (not at all)
Get your shit cracked (woo)
If I back out the chop, betta get back (baow)
Call Dread, that's the new Tom Brady (Brady)
Niggas get no bread 'cause they lazy (lazy)
Tell Dread, "Lift 'em, if that nigga talkin' crazy" (lift that nigga)
Now it's f*ck you, pay me (pay me)
Or bullets start blazin' (blazin')
Since I was young we invested guns
Now we lookin' at the stars in the Wraith (hahaha)
While I'm gettin' head by your bae (yeah)
She like, "Poppy, I love how you taste" (woo)
She like, "Poppy, can you nut?" (Nut)
I'm like, "Baby, just wait" (wait)
I told her to
Dawg (woo), pass me the sitchy, I'm clutch (pass me the sitchy, I'm clutch) (baow)
Tell 'em, "Come spin my block", (woo)
Tell 'em, "Come send them shots" (hahahaha)
You ain't no shooter, baow (bitch) (nah)
You just tote that chop (you lyin')
You don't want beef, you just want some props (facts)
I ain't get touched, how you my opp? (Baow)
Bitch, I'm too sauced (too sauced)
Nah, I don't dance, the Glock in my pants
The most I might do is the Woo Walk (woo)
The most I might do is the Woo Walk (Woo back, baby)
And I know they mad, uh (I know they mad)
Look, but please don't act silly (hahaha) (please don't act silly)
If I spin in a black flag (you can get shot)
They gon' think I'm a dizzy
This is Crip
Ayo, shit
From the cut
Ayo, shit
Huh? (grrt)
F*ck is you talkin' 'bout, nigga? (Baow)
Huh? (baow)
Stupid (baow)
It's thirty-two in the clip, nigga (woo, grrt, woo, baow)
Baow, movie
Pop Smoke, Bizzy
Like, like
Dawg, pass me the sitchy, I'm clutch (woo)
Tell 'em, "Come spin my block", (hahahaha)
Tell 'em, "Come send them shots"
You ain't no shooter (at all), baow
You just tote that chop (woo)
You don't want beef, you just want some props (haha)
I ain't get touched, how you my opp?
Bitch, I'm too sauced
Nah, I don't dance, the Glock in my pants
The most I might do is the Woo Walk (yeah)
The most I might do is the Woo Walk (yeah)
And I know they mad, uh (I know they mad)
Look, but please don't act silly (please don't act silly)
If I spin in a black flag (yeah, grrt)
They gon' think I'm a dizzy
Bitch, I'm a sleaze, baow (sleaze)
Give a f*ck who you be (give a f*ck who you be)
Yeah, I f*ck wit' them real niggas (real niggas), who f*ckin' wit' me
Don't ask if I'm GDK (at all, at all), nah, nigga, I'm EBK (EBK)
F*ck the judge and the DEA (f*ck them niggas), suck dick if you feel a way
I'm a lil' body but I tote like a big body 'cause I put in that pain (baow)
I walk with that lil' body but I back out
That big body if you speak on my name (grrt)
These niggas know nothin' 'bout me
But they gon' keep talkin' bout me and that shit ain't gon' change (woo)
I been in the cell it ain't shit you can tell me (woo)
If you ain't got hands, invest in .11s (woo)
Toughest nigga in yo' squad gon' be tellin'
The older niggas that be with me some felons
I really talk on the beats (beats)
If you not in the streets, you won't understand it
I get the chop if that nigga gon' panic
Headshot, cause a whole lotta damage, like (uh)
Headshot, cause a whole lotta damage
Yeah, I got Ruger wit' me, Leeky wit' me, bitch (haha)
We don't spin in no Ubers
And I got Rilla wit' me, JuJu wit' me, bitch (that's a whole lotta shooters)
We might hit ya medulla
You can't get busy wit' me, Jiggy wit' me
Demon wit' me, Hundo' wit' me, uh (nah)
The first nigga actin' silly, catch a figgy
Pass the glizzy and just watch how he run (grrr)
Watch how he-
Dawg, pass me the sitchy, I'm clutch (pass me the sitchy, I'm clutch) (baow)
Tell 'em, "Come spin my block", (woo)
Tell 'em, "Come send them shots" (hahahaha)
You ain't no shooter, baow (bitch) (nah)
You just tote that chop (you lyin')
You don't want beef, you just want some props (facts)
I ain't get touched, how you my opp? (Baow)
Bitch, I'm too sauced (too sauced)
Nah, I don't dance, the Glock in my pants
The most I might do is the Woo Walk (woo)
The most I might do is the Woo Walk (Woo back, baby)
And I know they mad, uh (I know they mad)
Look, but please don't act silly (hahaha) (please don't act silly)
If I spin in a black flag (you can get shot)
They gon' think I'm a dizzy
Tell that nigga to spin (spin)
That's when the party begin (that's when the party begin)
Yeah, my Glock full of sins (sins)
bullets hit your chin (huh)
I walk away grinnin' (grrt, baow)
If you check my CK (K, K)
Then it's f*ck what you said (f*ck, huh)
Bizzy send shots when you lay (Bizzy send shots)
Bizzy send shots when you lay (Bizzy send shots)
Look, said I'm 823, sanctioned (sanctioned)
Reach for my chain, we gon' spank 'em (spank 'em)
I ain't your regular gang member (nah)
Everybody knows I'm sanctioned (bangin')
If I step on an island, we wildin' out (out)
I ain't gon' step 'til the guns is out (out)
Free Psych Bike, free Ziggy Za
My niggas raisin' the body count (free all my niggas)
.44 bulldog, make 'em get back (back)
I ain't with the talk or the chit-chat (not at all)
Get your shit cracked (woo)
If I back out the chop, betta get back (baow)
Call Dread, that's the new Tom Brady (Brady)
Niggas get no bread 'cause they lazy (lazy)
Tell Dread, "Lift 'em, if that nigga talkin' crazy" (lift that nigga)
Now it's f*ck you, pay me (pay me)
Or bullets start blazin' (blazin')
Since I was young we invested guns
Now we lookin' at the stars in the Wraith (hahaha)
While I'm gettin' head by your bae (yeah)
She like, "Poppy, I love how you taste" (woo)
She like, "Poppy, can you nut?" (Nut)
I'm like, "Baby, just wait" (wait)
I told her to
Dawg (woo), pass me the sitchy, I'm clutch (pass me the sitchy, I'm clutch) (baow)
Tell 'em, "Come spin my block", (woo)
Tell 'em, "Come send them shots" (hahahaha)
You ain't no shooter, baow (bitch) (nah)
You just tote that chop (you lyin')
You don't want beef, you just want some props (facts)
I ain't get touched, how you my opp? (Baow)
Bitch, I'm too sauced (too sauced)
Nah, I don't dance, the Glock in my pants
The most I might do is the Woo Walk (woo)
The most I might do is the Woo Walk (Woo back, baby)
And I know they mad, uh (I know they mad)
Look, but please don't act silly (hahaha) (please don't act silly)
If I spin in a black flag (you can get shot)
They gon' think I'm a dizzy
Writer: Bashar Barakah Jackson, Majesty Moses, Ricardo Lamarre
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Beat the Speaker
Uh
Look
Pop Smoke'll beat the box (box)
Pop Smoke'll beat the speaker (speaker)
Ice up on my neck, Kaniqua (Kaniqua)
Dot up on your head for reachin' (reachin')
And I'm in the Bentley truck (truck)
With a bad bitch who eat up (eat up)
And I'm off the Molly, geekin' (geekin')
And it's 10K a feature (feature)
Pop Smoke'll beat the box
Pop Smoke'll beat the speaker (speaker)
Ice up on my neck, Kaniqua (Kaniqua)
Dot up on your head for reachin' (reachin')
And I'm in the Bentley truck (truck)
With a bad bitch who eat up (eat up)
And I'm off the Molly, geekin' (geekin')
And it's 10K a feature (feature)
AR when I walk through
Twenty-five for the walk through
Pussy boy, watch who you talk to (huh)
Say my name with a caution
I walk in the spot, like who want it?
Gun to his head, I put jewels on 'em
Get put on your neck if your team larkin'
Talk out your mouth and you're still barkin'
These 750s got my heart racin'
Pick up a steal, like I'm Paul Payton
Clipped him in vain, that's a call waitin'
Said I ain't with the foolery, I keep a tool on me
Come out your mind, you could get hurt
Bro Trav caught a man down
Pop Smoke, I'm the man now
Pop Smoke'll beat the box (box)
Pop Smoke'll beat the speaker (speaker)
Ice up on my neck, Kaniqua (Kaniqua)
Dot up on your head for reachin' (reachin')
And I'm in the Bentley truck (truck)
With a bad bitch who eat up (eat up)
And I'm off the Molly, geekin' (geekin')
And it's 10K a feature (feature)
Pop Smoke'll beat the box
Pop Smoke'll beat the speaker (speaker)
Ice up on my neck, Kaniqua (Kaniqua)
Dot up on your head for reachin' (reachin')
And I'm in the Bentley truck (truck)
With a bad bitch who eat up (eat up)
And I'm off the Molly, geekin' (geekin')
And it's 10K a feature (feature)
Look
Pop Smoke'll beat the box (box)
Pop Smoke'll beat the speaker (speaker)
Ice up on my neck, Kaniqua (Kaniqua)
Dot up on your head for reachin' (reachin')
And I'm in the Bentley truck (truck)
With a bad bitch who eat up (eat up)
And I'm off the Molly, geekin' (geekin')
And it's 10K a feature (feature)
Pop Smoke'll beat the box
Pop Smoke'll beat the speaker (speaker)
Ice up on my neck, Kaniqua (Kaniqua)
Dot up on your head for reachin' (reachin')
And I'm in the Bentley truck (truck)
With a bad bitch who eat up (eat up)
And I'm off the Molly, geekin' (geekin')
And it's 10K a feature (feature)
AR when I walk through
Twenty-five for the walk through
Pussy boy, watch who you talk to (huh)
Say my name with a caution
I walk in the spot, like who want it?
Gun to his head, I put jewels on 'em
Get put on your neck if your team larkin'
Talk out your mouth and you're still barkin'
These 750s got my heart racin'
Pick up a steal, like I'm Paul Payton
Clipped him in vain, that's a call waitin'
Said I ain't with the foolery, I keep a tool on me
Come out your mind, you could get hurt
Bro Trav caught a man down
Pop Smoke, I'm the man now
Pop Smoke'll beat the box (box)
Pop Smoke'll beat the speaker (speaker)
Ice up on my neck, Kaniqua (Kaniqua)
Dot up on your head for reachin' (reachin')
And I'm in the Bentley truck (truck)
With a bad bitch who eat up (eat up)
And I'm off the Molly, geekin' (geekin')
And it's 10K a feature (feature)
Pop Smoke'll beat the box
Pop Smoke'll beat the speaker (speaker)
Ice up on my neck, Kaniqua (Kaniqua)
Dot up on your head for reachin' (reachin')
And I'm in the Bentley truck (truck)
With a bad bitch who eat up (eat up)
And I'm off the Molly, geekin' (geekin')
And it's 10K a feature (feature)
Writer: Andre Michael Loblack, Bashar Barakah Jackson, Jess Jackson, Ryan Presson, Steven William Victor
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Coupe
Uh
Rrr
Grrt
Hop out the coupe, swervin' (baow)
Give me the loot, purgin' (baow)
Keep .22s, lurkin' (baow, woo, woo, woo, uh, woo)
Hop out the coupe, swervin' (woo)
Give me the loot, purgin' (boom)
Keep .22s, lurkin' (baow, woo, woo, woo, woo)
Yeezy the boot, fashion (rrr)
All this grass, it look good in this fashion (woo)
Point him out and I'ma tag him (boom)
Beat him down and then I drag him (baow)
Big nappy blue, burner (baow)
Wrap that boy up in the curtain (shot)
Brodie got one thing for sure (baow)
But Poppy got two things for certain (grrt)
I got guns in the shack, uh (boom)
I got guns in the back (baow)
Don't run in my crib, look (woo)
I put guns to your head (look, baow)
Will I shoot you? Nigga, prolly (uh-huh)
It's Pop Smoke, I'm movin' hottie (woo, woo)
Big knockin' on my body (grrt)
Free Rowdy and free Bobby (grrt)
Yeah, I'm 823, uh (baow)
Big GSC, uh (woo)
I had crack in my socks, uh (uh-huh)
I got guns in my brief (boom)
I give him hot shells like a taco (grrt)
Big Woo, the flex, nigga, nacho (grrt)
And I'm still swervin' from potholes (woo, woo)
And I still shootin' at Tahoes (skrrt-skrrt)
I give him hot shells like a taco (woo)
Big Woo, the flex, nigga, nacho (baow)
And I'm still swervin' from potholes (woo)
And I still shootin' at Tahoes (grrt)
Hop out the coupe, swervin' (baow)
Give me the loot, purgin' (baow)
Keep .22s, lurkin' (grrt, woo, woo, woo, woo)
Hop out the coupe, swervin' (baow)
Give me the loot, purgin' (baow)
Keep .22s, lurkin' (grrt, woo, woo, baow, woo, woo)
Hop out the coupe, swervin' (baow)
Give me the loot, purgin' (baow)
Keep .22s, lurkin' (huh, woo, woo, woo, woo)
Hop out the coupe, swervin' (boom)
Give me the loot, purgin' (baow)
Keep .22s, lurkin' (woo, woo, woo, woo)
Rrr
Grrt
Hop out the coupe, swervin' (baow)
Give me the loot, purgin' (baow)
Keep .22s, lurkin' (baow, woo, woo, woo, uh, woo)
Hop out the coupe, swervin' (woo)
Give me the loot, purgin' (boom)
Keep .22s, lurkin' (baow, woo, woo, woo, woo)
Yeezy the boot, fashion (rrr)
All this grass, it look good in this fashion (woo)
Point him out and I'ma tag him (boom)
Beat him down and then I drag him (baow)
Big nappy blue, burner (baow)
Wrap that boy up in the curtain (shot)
Brodie got one thing for sure (baow)
But Poppy got two things for certain (grrt)
I got guns in the shack, uh (boom)
I got guns in the back (baow)
Don't run in my crib, look (woo)
I put guns to your head (look, baow)
Will I shoot you? Nigga, prolly (uh-huh)
It's Pop Smoke, I'm movin' hottie (woo, woo)
Big knockin' on my body (grrt)
Free Rowdy and free Bobby (grrt)
Yeah, I'm 823, uh (baow)
Big GSC, uh (woo)
I had crack in my socks, uh (uh-huh)
I got guns in my brief (boom)
I give him hot shells like a taco (grrt)
Big Woo, the flex, nigga, nacho (grrt)
And I'm still swervin' from potholes (woo, woo)
And I still shootin' at Tahoes (skrrt-skrrt)
I give him hot shells like a taco (woo)
Big Woo, the flex, nigga, nacho (baow)
And I'm still swervin' from potholes (woo)
And I still shootin' at Tahoes (grrt)
Hop out the coupe, swervin' (baow)
Give me the loot, purgin' (baow)
Keep .22s, lurkin' (grrt, woo, woo, woo, woo)
Hop out the coupe, swervin' (baow)
Give me the loot, purgin' (baow)
Keep .22s, lurkin' (grrt, woo, woo, baow, woo, woo)
Hop out the coupe, swervin' (baow)
Give me the loot, purgin' (baow)
Keep .22s, lurkin' (huh, woo, woo, woo, woo)
Hop out the coupe, swervin' (boom)
Give me the loot, purgin' (baow)
Keep .22s, lurkin' (woo, woo, woo, woo)
Writer: Bashar Barakah Jackson, Ricardo Lamarre, Steven William Victor
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Whats Crackin
Uh
Yeah
Ayy
Look, pull up, what's crackin'? (Crackin')
Pull up, what happened? (Grrt)
A lot of guns and automatics ('matics)
A lot of guns and automatics (automatic)
Pull up, what's crackin'? (What's crackin'?)
Pull up, what happened? (What happened?)
A lot of guns and automatics ('matics)
A lot of guns and automatics ('matics)
Tell my shooters call me FaceTime (grrt)
'Cause we already done faced time (look, look)
Free D-Nice, he doin' state time (D-Nice)
You need the blicky, you can take mine (huh)
Uh, baby, you know I'm ridin' for my baby (baby)
One dead, two dead, yeah, we wildn' up in Macy's (woo)
You ain't gettin' bread 'cause you lazy (lazy)
You call the cops, then he gon' raid me (woo)
Nino cooler than a cooler, he still an ooter, he don't settle for nothin' (grrt, baow)
Uh, bluffin', pussy boy, stop all that bluffin' (stop all that bluffin')
Run Ricky, yeah, he runnin' (run), run Ricky, yeah, he runnin' (Ricky)
Back out, brush 'em (brrt), know some niggas that'll shoot you for nothin' (baow)
No politicin', no discussions (nah), no politicin', no discussions (bye, bye)
Uh, jay'd you, you ain't gettin' bread, nigga, jay'd you (nah, nah)
Big nappy blue, that boy evil, big nappy blue, that boy evil
Look, pull up, what's crackin'? (Grrt, pull up)
Pull up, what happened? (Woo)
A lot of guns and automatics (grrt, grrt)
A lot of guns and automatics (baow, brrt)
Pull up, what's crackin'? (Woo, pull up)
Pull up, what happened?
A lot of guns and automatics (brrt)
A lot of guns and automatics (brrt)
Takeoff
Pull up, what happened? (What happened?)
Pick up that fire and I'm blastin' (brrt)
It wasn't no need to hit 'em with the ratchet (nah)
So, f*ck, it I smack 'em (smack 'em)
It's Takeoff the rocket and I'm with the Woo, bitch
We everlastin' (bitch)
I got a startin' five that be natural (natural)
And the bitch be plastic (plastic)
Whippin' that, that come with that (shh)
While I be swervin' in traffic (skrrt)
And the opposition better not (no)
'Cause they know what's gon' happen (don't tell 'em that)
Talk to that boy, he on FaceTime (brrt)
Heard he got hit, it's a flatline (shh)
Don't know what you do 'bout yours (no)
But I'ma go Kanye 'bout mine
My jewelry's too cold, you catchin' pneumonia (cold)
I took the beat and I gave it Corona (how?)
Send me the drop and my niggas be on it (drop)
Only fear God, now show my opponent (God)
Ain't no complainin' 'bout makin' a bag, boy
You gotta get if you really want it (get it)
We be them niggas that f*ck up the city
They know us for clappin' at all our opponents (brrt)
Look, pull up, what's crackin'? (Crackin') (pull up)
Pull up, what happened? (Grrt)
A lot of guns and automatics ('matics) (brrt)
A lot of guns and automatics (automatic) (brrt)
Pull up, what's crackin'? (What's crackin'?) (Pull up)
Pull up, what happened? (What happened?)
A lot of guns and automatics ('matics) (brrt)
A lot of guns and automatics ('matics) (brrt)
Pull up, what's crackin'? (Crackin')
Pull up, what happened? (Grrt)
A lot of guns and automatics ('matics)
A lot of guns and automatics (automatic)
Pull up, what's crackin'? (get crackin')
Pull up, what happened? (What happened?)
A lot of guns and automatics ('matics)
A lot of guns and automatics ('matics)
Yeah
Ayy
Look, pull up, what's crackin'? (Crackin')
Pull up, what happened? (Grrt)
A lot of guns and automatics ('matics)
A lot of guns and automatics (automatic)
Pull up, what's crackin'? (What's crackin'?)
Pull up, what happened? (What happened?)
A lot of guns and automatics ('matics)
A lot of guns and automatics ('matics)
Tell my shooters call me FaceTime (grrt)
'Cause we already done faced time (look, look)
Free D-Nice, he doin' state time (D-Nice)
You need the blicky, you can take mine (huh)
Uh, baby, you know I'm ridin' for my baby (baby)
One dead, two dead, yeah, we wildn' up in Macy's (woo)
You ain't gettin' bread 'cause you lazy (lazy)
You call the cops, then he gon' raid me (woo)
Nino cooler than a cooler, he still an ooter, he don't settle for nothin' (grrt, baow)
Uh, bluffin', pussy boy, stop all that bluffin' (stop all that bluffin')
Run Ricky, yeah, he runnin' (run), run Ricky, yeah, he runnin' (Ricky)
Back out, brush 'em (brrt), know some niggas that'll shoot you for nothin' (baow)
No politicin', no discussions (nah), no politicin', no discussions (bye, bye)
Uh, jay'd you, you ain't gettin' bread, nigga, jay'd you (nah, nah)
Big nappy blue, that boy evil, big nappy blue, that boy evil
Look, pull up, what's crackin'? (Grrt, pull up)
Pull up, what happened? (Woo)
A lot of guns and automatics (grrt, grrt)
A lot of guns and automatics (baow, brrt)
Pull up, what's crackin'? (Woo, pull up)
Pull up, what happened?
A lot of guns and automatics (brrt)
A lot of guns and automatics (brrt)
Takeoff
Pull up, what happened? (What happened?)
Pick up that fire and I'm blastin' (brrt)
It wasn't no need to hit 'em with the ratchet (nah)
So, f*ck, it I smack 'em (smack 'em)
It's Takeoff the rocket and I'm with the Woo, bitch
We everlastin' (bitch)
I got a startin' five that be natural (natural)
And the bitch be plastic (plastic)
Whippin' that, that come with that (shh)
While I be swervin' in traffic (skrrt)
And the opposition better not (no)
'Cause they know what's gon' happen (don't tell 'em that)
Talk to that boy, he on FaceTime (brrt)
Heard he got hit, it's a flatline (shh)
Don't know what you do 'bout yours (no)
But I'ma go Kanye 'bout mine
My jewelry's too cold, you catchin' pneumonia (cold)
I took the beat and I gave it Corona (how?)
Send me the drop and my niggas be on it (drop)
Only fear God, now show my opponent (God)
Ain't no complainin' 'bout makin' a bag, boy
You gotta get if you really want it (get it)
We be them niggas that f*ck up the city
They know us for clappin' at all our opponents (brrt)
Look, pull up, what's crackin'? (Crackin') (pull up)
Pull up, what happened? (Grrt)
A lot of guns and automatics ('matics) (brrt)
A lot of guns and automatics (automatic) (brrt)
Pull up, what's crackin'? (What's crackin'?) (Pull up)
Pull up, what happened? (What happened?)
A lot of guns and automatics ('matics) (brrt)
A lot of guns and automatics ('matics) (brrt)
Pull up, what's crackin'? (Crackin')
Pull up, what happened? (Grrt)
A lot of guns and automatics ('matics)
A lot of guns and automatics (automatic)
Pull up, what's crackin'? (get crackin')
Pull up, what happened? (What happened?)
A lot of guns and automatics ('matics)
A lot of guns and automatics ('matics)
Writer: Bashar Barakah Jackson, Kirsnick Khari Ball, Ricardo Lamarre, Steven Tyler, Darryl Jackson
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Genius
Hol' on, tell 'em, "Wait, baby" (uh)
Woo
Hahaha
Grrt, baow
Look
These niggas is feds (woo)
I can't f*ck with niggas, I can't f*ck with niggas (woo, woo)
I got a couple niggas that'll let it fly for a couple niggas
That a couple niggas is me, they love me (baow)
'Cause Pop Smoke for the streets
I got that heat in the rocket (rocket, woo)
Say the wrong thing, I'ma pop it (pop it, grrt)
I got them choppas in the closet (closet)
A hundred mill' deposit (boom-boom)
That ain't an Uber, that's the feds (woo)
I see them niggas watchin' (uh)
I like my bitches redbone (redbone)
Ass fat, Jell-O (Jell-O)
Lightskin, yellow (yellow)
Black hair by the Regis and Pello (Pello)
I got her squirtin' in the cream (uh)
I put the Perky in my lean (lean)
Two thirtys got me leanin' (leanin')
I hope I don't OD (OD)
Like I OD'd at Nieman's (Nieman's)
Walked in, a hunnid in my jeans
The Perc' got me teased (teased)
But I drip when I'm leavin' (leave)
I got that Woo shit tatted (tatted)
Iced out Patek (Patek)
As long as you gettin' money, don't nothin' else matter (matter)
She gettin' lit, bust it down and get naked, baby (baby, uh-huh)
Just know you sanctioned, baby
Just know you sanctioned, baby (baby)
I keep that chopper, berretta-ta ('ta)
It ain't no stoppin', no lettin' up (grrt)
Free all my niggas that's stuck in a cage (woo)
Hoodie on, lookin' fresh, I'm a man
How you real and you run on your mans?
I'll be damned (I'll be damned)
Look, I'm comin' out with the Peter Pan (Pan)
Lookin' for you and your friends (friends)
Hop in the rocket, go to Venus
I'm dreamin', I'ma genius
Hop in the rocket, go to Venus (oh no)
I'm dreamin', I'ma genius (oh-oh)
Hop in that rocket, I take off (no)
We done came too far to play soft (no, no)
There ain't no stoppin', you f*ck by the opps all day
Ain't no stoppin' my pay short (never)
I do my thing, see, niggas try bein' like me
I'm like, "F*ck it, let's play horse" (okay)
Bitch, I'm golden, go look at the streams (streams)
Hunnid pack, I can make on my day off (jeez)
While we talkin' 'bout money, I got mine
Richard Mille a quarter, I got time
Really come from a block where they murder and slaughter
Young nigga been orderin' Hot 9
If I'm slidin', I'm takin' it easy
They stop blockin', they showin' me stop signs
Know you see it, you not blind
I'ma only keep dumpin', it's my time
Ain't tryna act tough but they know what's up (boom)
Ask lawyers, I got mine (shots, shots)
The security still gon' get touched
That glizzy gon' bust, get out line (boom, boom)
Evidentially, I put 'em to shame
Stay with demons on my mind
And I know that I'm not normal
I'm just livin' on my shine (shine, shine)
Hop in the rocket, go to Venus
I'm dreamin', I'ma genius
Hop in the rocket, go to Venus
I'm dreamin', I'ma genius (yeah, uh)
Yeah, I'm stimulated (stimulated)
I f*ck her better than a vibrator (yeah)
Owe me thirty-five favors (favors)
That I need sooner or later (later)
All of my killers enabled (yeah)
Me and the Woo related (related)
Nigga, I'm sharp as a razor
Everything in my favor (favor)
Cartier, Times Square (Square)
I be in New York like the Rangers (Rangers)
Every song, I got a M (M)
I spend an M, I'm back at the label (label)
All of my bitches is twins (twins)
And they do whatever I say so
Niggas watchin' like they TVO (TVO)
I'm back, pullin' cables (cables)
I'm just moved up in my weight class (weight)
Nigga, we ballin' like state champs (state)
Hold up, you better think fast
When it came down, you didn't know your ass
All of my niggas off house arrest (house)
For his birthday, got a new berretta
Smokin', I'm high as a bird feather
I bought the V for the vendetta
Hop in the rocket, go to Venus
I'm dreamin', I'ma genius
Hop in the rocket, go to Venus
I'm dreamin', I'ma genius
Woo
Hahaha
Grrt, baow
Look
These niggas is feds (woo)
I can't f*ck with niggas, I can't f*ck with niggas (woo, woo)
I got a couple niggas that'll let it fly for a couple niggas
That a couple niggas is me, they love me (baow)
'Cause Pop Smoke for the streets
I got that heat in the rocket (rocket, woo)
Say the wrong thing, I'ma pop it (pop it, grrt)
I got them choppas in the closet (closet)
A hundred mill' deposit (boom-boom)
That ain't an Uber, that's the feds (woo)
I see them niggas watchin' (uh)
I like my bitches redbone (redbone)
Ass fat, Jell-O (Jell-O)
Lightskin, yellow (yellow)
Black hair by the Regis and Pello (Pello)
I got her squirtin' in the cream (uh)
I put the Perky in my lean (lean)
Two thirtys got me leanin' (leanin')
I hope I don't OD (OD)
Like I OD'd at Nieman's (Nieman's)
Walked in, a hunnid in my jeans
The Perc' got me teased (teased)
But I drip when I'm leavin' (leave)
I got that Woo shit tatted (tatted)
Iced out Patek (Patek)
As long as you gettin' money, don't nothin' else matter (matter)
She gettin' lit, bust it down and get naked, baby (baby, uh-huh)
Just know you sanctioned, baby
Just know you sanctioned, baby (baby)
I keep that chopper, berretta-ta ('ta)
It ain't no stoppin', no lettin' up (grrt)
Free all my niggas that's stuck in a cage (woo)
Hoodie on, lookin' fresh, I'm a man
How you real and you run on your mans?
I'll be damned (I'll be damned)
Look, I'm comin' out with the Peter Pan (Pan)
Lookin' for you and your friends (friends)
Hop in the rocket, go to Venus
I'm dreamin', I'ma genius
Hop in the rocket, go to Venus (oh no)
I'm dreamin', I'ma genius (oh-oh)
Hop in that rocket, I take off (no)
We done came too far to play soft (no, no)
There ain't no stoppin', you f*ck by the opps all day
Ain't no stoppin' my pay short (never)
I do my thing, see, niggas try bein' like me
I'm like, "F*ck it, let's play horse" (okay)
Bitch, I'm golden, go look at the streams (streams)
Hunnid pack, I can make on my day off (jeez)
While we talkin' 'bout money, I got mine
Richard Mille a quarter, I got time
Really come from a block where they murder and slaughter
Young nigga been orderin' Hot 9
If I'm slidin', I'm takin' it easy
They stop blockin', they showin' me stop signs
Know you see it, you not blind
I'ma only keep dumpin', it's my time
Ain't tryna act tough but they know what's up (boom)
Ask lawyers, I got mine (shots, shots)
The security still gon' get touched
That glizzy gon' bust, get out line (boom, boom)
Evidentially, I put 'em to shame
Stay with demons on my mind
And I know that I'm not normal
I'm just livin' on my shine (shine, shine)
Hop in the rocket, go to Venus
I'm dreamin', I'ma genius
Hop in the rocket, go to Venus
I'm dreamin', I'ma genius (yeah, uh)
Yeah, I'm stimulated (stimulated)
I f*ck her better than a vibrator (yeah)
Owe me thirty-five favors (favors)
That I need sooner or later (later)
All of my killers enabled (yeah)
Me and the Woo related (related)
Nigga, I'm sharp as a razor
Everything in my favor (favor)
Cartier, Times Square (Square)
I be in New York like the Rangers (Rangers)
Every song, I got a M (M)
I spend an M, I'm back at the label (label)
All of my bitches is twins (twins)
And they do whatever I say so
Niggas watchin' like they TVO (TVO)
I'm back, pullin' cables (cables)
I'm just moved up in my weight class (weight)
Nigga, we ballin' like state champs (state)
Hold up, you better think fast
When it came down, you didn't know your ass
All of my niggas off house arrest (house)
For his birthday, got a new berretta
Smokin', I'm high as a bird feather
I bought the V for the vendetta
Hop in the rocket, go to Venus
I'm dreamin', I'ma genius
Hop in the rocket, go to Venus
I'm dreamin', I'ma genius
Writer: Bashar Barakah Jackson, Brytavious Lakeith Chambers, Khalif Malik Ibin Shaman Brown, Ricardo Lamarre, Steven William Victor, Tione Dalyan Merritt
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Mr. Jones
Oh-oh
Oh-oh, oh
Said we in Miami (oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh)
We just left Mr. Jones (oh-oh, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh)
With a hundred bitches that's down, ready to f*ck
Look
Said we in Miami, we just left Mr. Jones
With a hundred bitches that's down, ready to f*ck
She said she wanna be the bartender, I'm like, "Your ass ain't fat enough"
Before you get that, you better go get a tummy tuck
She like, "Poppy, can you give me fifty-five hundred?"
I ain't givin' you shit unless you suckin' all of us
She went upstairs and gave my lil' homie some pussy
The lil' nigga f*cked around and got sprung
She came out the room like, "Poppy, my ass hurt"
She just put up with mad work, yeah
You worried 'bout the wrong thing
That's bad work, it's 'bout the cash first
When you down, we run up that shower
Break it down in the back, girl
If I say that you mine, that mean that you ours
You can't put me first, that's backwards
Said we in Miami, we just left Mr. Jones
With a hundred bitches that's down, ready to f*ck
She said she wanna be the bartender, I'm like, "Your ass ain't fat enough"
Before you get that, you better go get a tummy tuck
She like, "Poppy, can you give me fifty-five hundred?"
I ain't givin' you shit unless you suckin' all of us
She went upstairs and gave my lil' homie some pussy
The lil' nigga f*cked around and got sprung
We in Skyami (we in Skyami)
Goin' all the way up (all the way up)
Got a hunnid bitches in the VIP, I bet they gon' f*ck (bet they gon' f*ck)
Bitch came with no panties on, got dope in my cup
Take a bitch to the jeweler, drop a big bag on a bitch drip, yeah
Top of the penthouse, it's a personal shopper
Bringin' fire fits you can't find in the store
My bitch gon' step on a bitch in Dior
Smokin' out the pound, drink out the bottle
Mermaid, pussy taste like some water
Jimmy Choos shoes, Manolo blunted
Cop her new jewels just for the fun
Got the number two, shorty rewind
Wrapped in plastic, then she fired up her own
Got the smashes, every day like a goon
Million dollars, it got me on the moon
I be takin' shit down like a tycoon
Lotta solitaires, drank and Patron
Change the temperature when I walk in a room
Take the baddest bitches out, Mr. Jones
Take the baddest bitches out, Mr. Jones
Take the baddest bitches out, Mr. Jones
(I like that, hahaha)
Said we in Miami (we in Miami), we just left Mr. Jones (just left Mr. Jones)
With a hundred bitches that's down, ready to f*ck (ready to f*ck)
She said she wanna be the bartender, I'm like, "Your ass ain't fat enough"
Before you get that, you better go get a tummy tuck (oh yeah)
Said we in Miami (we in Miami), we just left Mr. Jones (just left Mr. Jones)
With a hundred bitches that's down, ready to f*ck (ready to f*ck)
She said she wanna be the bartender, I'm like, "Your ass ain't fat enough" (fat enough)
Before you get that, you better go get a tummy tuck
She like, "Poppy, can you give me fifty-five hundred?"
I ain't givin' you shit unless you suckin' all of us
She went upstairs and gave my lil' homie some pussy
The lil' nigga f*cked around and got sprung
Oh-oh, oh
Said we in Miami (oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh)
We just left Mr. Jones (oh-oh, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh)
With a hundred bitches that's down, ready to f*ck
Look
Said we in Miami, we just left Mr. Jones
With a hundred bitches that's down, ready to f*ck
She said she wanna be the bartender, I'm like, "Your ass ain't fat enough"
Before you get that, you better go get a tummy tuck
She like, "Poppy, can you give me fifty-five hundred?"
I ain't givin' you shit unless you suckin' all of us
She went upstairs and gave my lil' homie some pussy
The lil' nigga f*cked around and got sprung
She came out the room like, "Poppy, my ass hurt"
She just put up with mad work, yeah
You worried 'bout the wrong thing
That's bad work, it's 'bout the cash first
When you down, we run up that shower
Break it down in the back, girl
If I say that you mine, that mean that you ours
You can't put me first, that's backwards
Said we in Miami, we just left Mr. Jones
With a hundred bitches that's down, ready to f*ck
She said she wanna be the bartender, I'm like, "Your ass ain't fat enough"
Before you get that, you better go get a tummy tuck
She like, "Poppy, can you give me fifty-five hundred?"
I ain't givin' you shit unless you suckin' all of us
She went upstairs and gave my lil' homie some pussy
The lil' nigga f*cked around and got sprung
We in Skyami (we in Skyami)
Goin' all the way up (all the way up)
Got a hunnid bitches in the VIP, I bet they gon' f*ck (bet they gon' f*ck)
Bitch came with no panties on, got dope in my cup
Take a bitch to the jeweler, drop a big bag on a bitch drip, yeah
Top of the penthouse, it's a personal shopper
Bringin' fire fits you can't find in the store
My bitch gon' step on a bitch in Dior
Smokin' out the pound, drink out the bottle
Mermaid, pussy taste like some water
Jimmy Choos shoes, Manolo blunted
Cop her new jewels just for the fun
Got the number two, shorty rewind
Wrapped in plastic, then she fired up her own
Got the smashes, every day like a goon
Million dollars, it got me on the moon
I be takin' shit down like a tycoon
Lotta solitaires, drank and Patron
Change the temperature when I walk in a room
Take the baddest bitches out, Mr. Jones
Take the baddest bitches out, Mr. Jones
Take the baddest bitches out, Mr. Jones
(I like that, hahaha)
Said we in Miami (we in Miami), we just left Mr. Jones (just left Mr. Jones)
With a hundred bitches that's down, ready to f*ck (ready to f*ck)
She said she wanna be the bartender, I'm like, "Your ass ain't fat enough"
Before you get that, you better go get a tummy tuck (oh yeah)
Said we in Miami (we in Miami), we just left Mr. Jones (just left Mr. Jones)
With a hundred bitches that's down, ready to f*ck (ready to f*ck)
She said she wanna be the bartender, I'm like, "Your ass ain't fat enough" (fat enough)
Before you get that, you better go get a tummy tuck
She like, "Poppy, can you give me fifty-five hundred?"
I ain't givin' you shit unless you suckin' all of us
She went upstairs and gave my lil' homie some pussy
The lil' nigga f*cked around and got sprung
Writer: Alex Christian Jean Petit, Bashar Barakah Jackson, Carlos Lamont Jr. Goodwin, John Wesley Lucas, Michael F. Hernandez, Nayvadius Wilburn
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Woo Baby Interlude
Look, you know I love a tiger (grrt)
She got the buns, I admire, huh
I'm 'bout to buy that bitch a car
I'm 'bout to send RD the wire (wait)
You know I love a tiger
I skrrt on her ass like a tire, huh
She like, "Poppy, you on fire," huh
She like, "Poppy, you on fire," woo
.44 barkin', ayy, hold on
Louder than the church choir, huh
I do a drill in a suit, huh
Then I change my attire
Look, she throw that ass back in a quick sec'
Change her clothes and then make a Snapchat
Then she go talk about it on her Facebook
I'm like, "Baby, I thought we was past that?"
She got the buns, I admire, huh
I'm 'bout to buy that bitch a car
I'm 'bout to send RD the wire (wait)
You know I love a tiger
I skrrt on her ass like a tire, huh
She like, "Poppy, you on fire," huh
She like, "Poppy, you on fire," woo
.44 barkin', ayy, hold on
Louder than the church choir, huh
I do a drill in a suit, huh
Then I change my attire
Look, she throw that ass back in a quick sec'
Change her clothes and then make a Snapchat
Then she go talk about it on her Facebook
I'm like, "Baby, I thought we was past that?"
Writer: Bashar Jackson
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Woo Baby
Look, you know I love a tiger (grrt)
She got the buns, I admire, huh
I'm 'bout to buy that bitch a car
I'm 'bout to send RD the wire (wait)
You know I love a tiger
I skrrt on her ass like a tire, huh
She like, "Poppy, you on fire," huh
She like, "Poppy, you on fire," woo
.44 barkin', ayy, hold on
Louder than the church choir, huh
I do a drill in a suit, huh
Then I change my attire
Look, she throw that ass back in a quick sec'
Change her clothes and then make a Snapchat
Then she go talk about it on her Facebook
I'm like, "Baby, I thought we was past that?"
She got the buns, I admire, huh
I'm 'bout to buy that bitch a car
I'm 'bout to send RD the wire (wait)
You know I love a tiger
I skrrt on her ass like a tire, huh
She like, "Poppy, you on fire," huh
She like, "Poppy, you on fire," woo
.44 barkin', ayy, hold on
Louder than the church choir, huh
I do a drill in a suit, huh
Then I change my attire
Look, she throw that ass back in a quick sec'
Change her clothes and then make a Snapchat
Then she go talk about it on her Facebook
I'm like, "Baby, I thought we was past that?"
Writer: Bashar Jackson
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Demeanor
Ooh (oh)
Baba treesha (oh)
Oh
I'm flirtin' with your baba treesha (treesha)
Shorty said she like my demeanor (demeanor)
And she look like a eater (eater)
I'm off the Perky geekin' (yeah)
I'm flirtin' with your baba treesha (treesha)
Shorty said she like my demeanor (demeanor)
And she look like a eater (eater)
I'm off the perky geekin' (yeah)
Wait, wait
Oh, wait
Ooh
Ooh
Fishbowl, send shots, bend blocks, send 'em back (yeah)
Earthquakes and ceiling cracks, all my niggas into that
You send a shot, we send it back, all facts, no cap (none)
Put my hat to the back (back), a hunnid thousand in the bag
Look, eleven dollars a hour ain't enough to live (nah)
So I'ma go in every store and I'ma swipe this shit (yeah, yeah)
They tryna lock a nigga up and I'm like, "F*ck a bid" (yeah)
'Cause either way, mommy gon' still love her kid (she gon' love me)
I just took twenty from the city they like, "Who is you?" (Who that? Woo)
A lotta niggas talkin' shit that they don't really do (ah, yeah)
I'm 'bout to turn my Air Force 1's into a Gucci shoe (yeah, yeah)
I'm 'bout to turn my Timberlands into a Yeezy boot (oh)
My president black, bandana is blue (you know what I'm sayin'?)
Diamonds hittin', got me glistenin' like I came out the pool
I'm so exotic like I came out the zoo (no)
But I shot out the coupe (no)
I got a scope with a clear eye view, woo (yeah)
I'm flirtin' with your baba treesha (treesha)
Shorty said she like my demeanor (demeanor)
And she look like a eater (eater)
I'm off the Perky geekin' (yeah)
I'm flirtin' with your baba treesha (treesha)
Shorty said she like my demeanor (demeanor)
And she look like a eater (eater)
I'm off the Perky geekin'
Wait, wait
Oh, wait (my demeanor is meaner than yours)
Ooh
Ooh
Female alpha
And I practice what I preach, I devour
Tell me, can you take the heat?
You can touch with your eyes only
I know you like what you see
That "Je ne sais quoi" energy
Baby, get on your knees
You can't say Pop without Smoke
So fill up with your lungs
My diamonds will make you choke
You like the way I move
My demeanor is meaner than yours
So clap for the encore
You can't say Pop without Smoke
So fill up with your lungs
My diamonds will make you choke
You like the way I move
My demeanor is meaner than yours
So clap for the encore
I'm flirtin' with your baba treesha (treesha)
Shorty said she like my demeanor (demeanor)
And she look like a eater (eater)
I'm off the Perky geekin' (yeah)
I'm flirtin' with your baba treesha (treesha)
Shorty said she like my demeanor (demeanor)
And she look like a eater (eater)
I'm off the Perky geekin'
Wait, wait
Oh, wait (my demeanor is meaner than yours)
Ooh
Ooh
Baba treesha (oh)
Oh
I'm flirtin' with your baba treesha (treesha)
Shorty said she like my demeanor (demeanor)
And she look like a eater (eater)
I'm off the Perky geekin' (yeah)
I'm flirtin' with your baba treesha (treesha)
Shorty said she like my demeanor (demeanor)
And she look like a eater (eater)
I'm off the perky geekin' (yeah)
Wait, wait
Oh, wait
Ooh
Ooh
Fishbowl, send shots, bend blocks, send 'em back (yeah)
Earthquakes and ceiling cracks, all my niggas into that
You send a shot, we send it back, all facts, no cap (none)
Put my hat to the back (back), a hunnid thousand in the bag
Look, eleven dollars a hour ain't enough to live (nah)
So I'ma go in every store and I'ma swipe this shit (yeah, yeah)
They tryna lock a nigga up and I'm like, "F*ck a bid" (yeah)
'Cause either way, mommy gon' still love her kid (she gon' love me)
I just took twenty from the city they like, "Who is you?" (Who that? Woo)
A lotta niggas talkin' shit that they don't really do (ah, yeah)
I'm 'bout to turn my Air Force 1's into a Gucci shoe (yeah, yeah)
I'm 'bout to turn my Timberlands into a Yeezy boot (oh)
My president black, bandana is blue (you know what I'm sayin'?)
Diamonds hittin', got me glistenin' like I came out the pool
I'm so exotic like I came out the zoo (no)
But I shot out the coupe (no)
I got a scope with a clear eye view, woo (yeah)
I'm flirtin' with your baba treesha (treesha)
Shorty said she like my demeanor (demeanor)
And she look like a eater (eater)
I'm off the Perky geekin' (yeah)
I'm flirtin' with your baba treesha (treesha)
Shorty said she like my demeanor (demeanor)
And she look like a eater (eater)
I'm off the Perky geekin'
Wait, wait
Oh, wait (my demeanor is meaner than yours)
Ooh
Ooh
Female alpha
And I practice what I preach, I devour
Tell me, can you take the heat?
You can touch with your eyes only
I know you like what you see
That "Je ne sais quoi" energy
Baby, get on your knees
You can't say Pop without Smoke
So fill up with your lungs
My diamonds will make you choke
You like the way I move
My demeanor is meaner than yours
So clap for the encore
You can't say Pop without Smoke
So fill up with your lungs
My diamonds will make you choke
You like the way I move
My demeanor is meaner than yours
So clap for the encore
I'm flirtin' with your baba treesha (treesha)
Shorty said she like my demeanor (demeanor)
And she look like a eater (eater)
I'm off the Perky geekin' (yeah)
I'm flirtin' with your baba treesha (treesha)
Shorty said she like my demeanor (demeanor)
And she look like a eater (eater)
I'm off the Perky geekin'
Wait, wait
Oh, wait (my demeanor is meaner than yours)
Ooh
Ooh
Writer: Bashar Barakah Jackson, Clarence Bernard Coffee, Daniel Mizrahi, Dru Decaro, Dua Lipa, Michael Louis Gomes, Ryan Presson, Sarah Hudson, Steven William Victor
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Abkco Music Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Abkco Music Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Spoiled
When's the last time you had a real one?
She said, "It's been a while"
Someone that's gon' deal wit' ya
She said she got no more
She said she just got her body done and it's still sore
From head to toe, she's dripped in Christian Dior
See, there ain't no doubt about it, you're spoiled
See, you wanna be rewarded for bein' loyal, bein' loyal
You want me wrapped around your finger
Like a rapper or a singer, nah
See these diamonds in my teeth?
Bitch, I am royal, I am royal
When's the last time you had a real one?
She said, "It's been a while"
Someone that's gon' deal wit' ya
She said she got no more
She said she just got her body done and it's still sore
From head to toe, she's dripped in Christian Dior
See, there ain't no doubt about it, you're spoiled
See, you wanna be rewarded for bein' loyal, bein' loyal
You want me wrapped around your finger
Like a rapper or a singer, nah
See these diamonds in my teeth?
Bitch, I am royal, I am royal
When's the last time you had a real one?
She said, "It's been a while"
Someone that's gon' deal wit' ya
She said she got no more
She said she just got her body done and it's still sore
From head to toe, she's dripped in Christian Dior
She said, "It's been a while"
Someone that's gon' deal wit' ya
She said she got no more
She said she just got her body done and it's still sore
From head to toe, she's dripped in Christian Dior
See, there ain't no doubt about it, you're spoiled
See, you wanna be rewarded for bein' loyal, bein' loyal
You want me wrapped around your finger
Like a rapper or a singer, nah
See these diamonds in my teeth?
Bitch, I am royal, I am royal
When's the last time you had a real one?
She said, "It's been a while"
Someone that's gon' deal wit' ya
She said she got no more
She said she just got her body done and it's still sore
From head to toe, she's dripped in Christian Dior
See, there ain't no doubt about it, you're spoiled
See, you wanna be rewarded for bein' loyal, bein' loyal
You want me wrapped around your finger
Like a rapper or a singer, nah
See these diamonds in my teeth?
Bitch, I am royal, I am royal
When's the last time you had a real one?
She said, "It's been a while"
Someone that's gon' deal wit' ya
She said she got no more
She said she just got her body done and it's still sore
From head to toe, she's dripped in Christian Dior
Writer: Bashar Barakah Jackson, Chad Hugo, Pharrell L. Williams
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
8-ball
[Pop Smoke]
Ooh (Oh)
Ooh (Ayy)
Ooh
It was all profit, profit, profit, profit (Swizz got me singin', ha)
'Cause I never use to have nothin' (Nothin'), nothin' (Ooh), nothin' (Ooh)
Stay ten toes, ten toes (Oh), ten toes (Oh), ten toes (Ten)
Never used to have nada, it was all profit (Oh)
8-Ball, corner pocket (Oh)
Mama told me, "Keep your head above water, keep your head above water"
Never take your first offer, it's gon' come around again
Ooh, always keep yourself in order, order, before somebody put you in order
8-Ball, corner pocket
[Kid Cudi]
(Yeah)
Know the devil telling lies
He's there when I sleep, mm (Mm-mm)
Say you can't rewind in this life, but is it me, oh Lord (Mm-mm)
In my mind, someplace else where I see it
So sweet and
No, I couldn't make it running if it's too hard (Mm-mm)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Carrying on, we been just singing this song
Wonder what bleeds in the dark, and we built to handle it all
Answer the call, are you hearin' me? Come and get involved, baby doll
Live a fast life, can't blame me
I explode when I know I'm toe-to-toe in a fight
Dancing with the devil, pray I make it alright
Mm-mm, mm-mm
I don't know why, just a nigga living wild (Ooh-ooh)
8-Ball, corner pocket
[Pop Smoke]
It was all profit, profit, profit, profit
'Cause I never use to have nothin' (Nothin'), nothin' (Ooh), nothin' (Ooh)
Stay ten toes, ten toes (Oh), ten toes (Oh), ten toes (Ten)
Never used to have nada, it was all profit (Oh)
8-Ball, corner pocket (Oh)
Ooh (Oh)
Ooh (Ayy)
Ooh
It was all profit, profit, profit, profit (Swizz got me singin', ha)
'Cause I never use to have nothin' (Nothin'), nothin' (Ooh), nothin' (Ooh)
Stay ten toes, ten toes (Oh), ten toes (Oh), ten toes (Ten)
Never used to have nada, it was all profit (Oh)
8-Ball, corner pocket (Oh)
Mama told me, "Keep your head above water, keep your head above water"
Never take your first offer, it's gon' come around again
Ooh, always keep yourself in order, order, before somebody put you in order
8-Ball, corner pocket
[Kid Cudi]
(Yeah)
Know the devil telling lies
He's there when I sleep, mm (Mm-mm)
Say you can't rewind in this life, but is it me, oh Lord (Mm-mm)
In my mind, someplace else where I see it
So sweet and
No, I couldn't make it running if it's too hard (Mm-mm)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Carrying on, we been just singing this song
Wonder what bleeds in the dark, and we built to handle it all
Answer the call, are you hearin' me? Come and get involved, baby doll
Live a fast life, can't blame me
I explode when I know I'm toe-to-toe in a fight
Dancing with the devil, pray I make it alright
Mm-mm, mm-mm
I don't know why, just a nigga living wild (Ooh-ooh)
8-Ball, corner pocket
[Pop Smoke]
It was all profit, profit, profit, profit
'Cause I never use to have nothin' (Nothin'), nothin' (Ooh), nothin' (Ooh)
Stay ten toes, ten toes (Oh), ten toes (Oh), ten toes (Ten)
Never used to have nada, it was all profit (Oh)
8-Ball, corner pocket (Oh)
Writer: Avery Chambliss, Bashar Barakah Jackson, Kasseem Dean, Scott Ramon Seguro Mescudi, Tyrone Johnson
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Back Door
My mama tell, uh-uh-uh
Uh-uh-uh, uh-uh, huh?
My mama tell me (mama), "Be careful, better stay out them projects (projects)
Better watch for them haters, you never know who be watchin' (watchin')
Talk less and do more, you never know who be talkin'
And if you up up that chop, you better aim for your target" yeah
I up and squeeze on a pussy ass opposition (uh-huh)
Cops askin' me these questions, I don't know nothin'
Hit that nigga up, get through the backdoor (backdoor, yeah, yeah, yeah)
My mama tell me (mama), "Be careful, better stay out them projects (projects)
Better watch for them haters, you never know who be watchin' (watchin')
Talk less and do more, you never know who be talkin'
And if you up up that chop, you better aim for your target" yeah
Stay down out on the Nawf (stay down)
Too much smoke, don't know what it's 'bout (mm-hmm)
We was the first ones out (out), the hood
We brought that shit back to the house (house), it look good
Inside the mud (mud), inside the rain (rain), no more pain
I had the (yeah), hundred round drum just for shit that look strange
I had to (yeah), kick through some doors just ice out the chain
We had to (ice), f*ck a few hoes, since they claimin' they gang (smash)
Jumped out to pull some chains, doubled back and it came
Huncho hustle mentality, just like Kobe with rings (Mamba)
I don't wanna mentions names, but some can't even hang
One thing I learned about this game that it's gonna show if you lame (show if you lame)
Huncho and Pop Smoke, yeah, we turnin' the page
I don't know, but it feel like we go back in the day (back in the day)
I put food on the table, niggas won't touch my plate
Mama let me go outside, but I ain't out here tryna play
My mama tell me (mama), "Be careful, better stay out them projects (projects)
Better watch for them haters, you never know who be watchin' (watchin')
Talk less and do more, you never know who be talkin'
And if you up up that chop, you better aim for your target" yeah
I up and squeeze on a pussy ass opposition (uh-huh)
Cops askin' me these questions, I don't know nothin'
Hit that nigga up, get through the backdoor (backdoor, yeah, yeah, yeah)
My mama tell me (mama), "Be careful, better stay out them projects (projects)
Better watch for them haters, you never know who be watchin' (watchin')
Talk less and do more, you never know who be talkin'
And if you up up that chop, you better aim for your target" yeah
I might be goin' numb, I ain't show love, damn near died in me
My mind on so much drugs I think my sliders tryna slide on me
I bet none of these rappers got more war stories than he do
Every night I pray that my lil' soldiers keep it zeeko
I just wanna make a lot of money for my people
I just caught a case, but I thank God it ain't a RICO
Can't stay out the hood, I'm like a magnet to the projects
Every time I do good, Lord, all the bad shit be followin'
I don't know who be hatin', 'cause they still shakin' hands
I don't know who be fakin', 'cause they still shakin' hands
I know everybody smilin' in my face ain't really my friends
I know niggas be hollerin' like they gang, but really gon' bend
Bussin' at the opps, and I'm duckin' from the cops
'Cause I'm still cluchin' Glocks for mama
I'm bussin' at the opps, 'cause every time I try to stop
They be playin' with my top, mama
My mama tell me (mama), "Be careful, better stay out them projects (projects)
Better watch for them haters, you never know who be watchin' (watchin')
Talk less and do more, you never know who be talkin'
And if you up up that chop, you better aim for your target" yeah
I up and squeeze on a pussy ass opposition (uh-huh)
Cops askin' me these questions, I don't know nothin'
Hit that nigga up, get through the backdoor (backdoor, yeah, yeah, yeah)
My mama tell me (mama), "Be careful, better stay out them projects (projects)
Better watch for them haters, you never know who be watchin' (watchin')
Talk less and do more, you never know who be talkin'
And if you up up that chop, you better aim for your target" yeah
Schemin', yeah, yeah
I'm like that
Back door, yeah, yeah, yeah
Uh-uh-uh, uh-uh, huh?
My mama tell me (mama), "Be careful, better stay out them projects (projects)
Better watch for them haters, you never know who be watchin' (watchin')
Talk less and do more, you never know who be talkin'
And if you up up that chop, you better aim for your target" yeah
I up and squeeze on a pussy ass opposition (uh-huh)
Cops askin' me these questions, I don't know nothin'
Hit that nigga up, get through the backdoor (backdoor, yeah, yeah, yeah)
My mama tell me (mama), "Be careful, better stay out them projects (projects)
Better watch for them haters, you never know who be watchin' (watchin')
Talk less and do more, you never know who be talkin'
And if you up up that chop, you better aim for your target" yeah
Stay down out on the Nawf (stay down)
Too much smoke, don't know what it's 'bout (mm-hmm)
We was the first ones out (out), the hood
We brought that shit back to the house (house), it look good
Inside the mud (mud), inside the rain (rain), no more pain
I had the (yeah), hundred round drum just for shit that look strange
I had to (yeah), kick through some doors just ice out the chain
We had to (ice), f*ck a few hoes, since they claimin' they gang (smash)
Jumped out to pull some chains, doubled back and it came
Huncho hustle mentality, just like Kobe with rings (Mamba)
I don't wanna mentions names, but some can't even hang
One thing I learned about this game that it's gonna show if you lame (show if you lame)
Huncho and Pop Smoke, yeah, we turnin' the page
I don't know, but it feel like we go back in the day (back in the day)
I put food on the table, niggas won't touch my plate
Mama let me go outside, but I ain't out here tryna play
My mama tell me (mama), "Be careful, better stay out them projects (projects)
Better watch for them haters, you never know who be watchin' (watchin')
Talk less and do more, you never know who be talkin'
And if you up up that chop, you better aim for your target" yeah
I up and squeeze on a pussy ass opposition (uh-huh)
Cops askin' me these questions, I don't know nothin'
Hit that nigga up, get through the backdoor (backdoor, yeah, yeah, yeah)
My mama tell me (mama), "Be careful, better stay out them projects (projects)
Better watch for them haters, you never know who be watchin' (watchin')
Talk less and do more, you never know who be talkin'
And if you up up that chop, you better aim for your target" yeah
I might be goin' numb, I ain't show love, damn near died in me
My mind on so much drugs I think my sliders tryna slide on me
I bet none of these rappers got more war stories than he do
Every night I pray that my lil' soldiers keep it zeeko
I just wanna make a lot of money for my people
I just caught a case, but I thank God it ain't a RICO
Can't stay out the hood, I'm like a magnet to the projects
Every time I do good, Lord, all the bad shit be followin'
I don't know who be hatin', 'cause they still shakin' hands
I don't know who be fakin', 'cause they still shakin' hands
I know everybody smilin' in my face ain't really my friends
I know niggas be hollerin' like they gang, but really gon' bend
Bussin' at the opps, and I'm duckin' from the cops
'Cause I'm still cluchin' Glocks for mama
I'm bussin' at the opps, 'cause every time I try to stop
They be playin' with my top, mama
My mama tell me (mama), "Be careful, better stay out them projects (projects)
Better watch for them haters, you never know who be watchin' (watchin')
Talk less and do more, you never know who be talkin'
And if you up up that chop, you better aim for your target" yeah
I up and squeeze on a pussy ass opposition (uh-huh)
Cops askin' me these questions, I don't know nothin'
Hit that nigga up, get through the backdoor (backdoor, yeah, yeah, yeah)
My mama tell me (mama), "Be careful, better stay out them projects (projects)
Better watch for them haters, you never know who be watchin' (watchin')
Talk less and do more, you never know who be talkin'
And if you up up that chop, you better aim for your target" yeah
Schemin', yeah, yeah
I'm like that
Back door, yeah, yeah, yeah
Writer: Bashar Jackson, Bill Kapri, Friendlor Nomincy, Quavious Marshall, Tahj Javal Vaughn, Thomas Horton
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Merci Beaucoup
Woo (haha)
Wait
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry (baow)
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry, huh, wait (baow, woo)
Hahaha (hahaha)
Yeah, hol' on
Woo, woo, woo, woo, woo
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry (baow)
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry
I said, "Don't get it twisted, just 'cause I smile a lot
That don't mean I'm with the foolery" (baow)
When I walk in my school, all the staff fool wit' me
I'm like, "You used to tutor me" (woo)
I stay in the cut like a Band-Aid (cut)
And that's where my shooters be (baow)
Run down, gun tucked (grrt), tool on me, tool on me (woo)
Left switch, Pop Smoke (Pop Smoke)
They do not know what you started
I pop a Perc', go retarded, then mack up the 'Rari
Then f*ck up my grandmother 'partment
I'm rockin' Louis V, Louis V (Louis V)
'Cause I ain't too pressed with Dior
No tellin', but I'm the Messiah, now
I'm the creator, I got the drip in my pores
I can not never, I could never kiss a whore
F*ck her life up, then go up on tour, huh
She know we up on the board
I got the .45 tucked in my drawers
They like, "What's on your ring?", Eleven Carats
That come with a bad bitch and a mansion and she from Paris
Merci beaucoup (merci beaucoup)
I don't got nothin' to prove (nah)
It's either you win or you lose
It's either you win or you lose
And I don't really care what your gang claim
All I know is my niggas is Woo
Saucin', hol' on, woos, huh
I shoot a nigga out the coupe
Wait
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry
Wait
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry
Cash
Wait
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry
Wait (hahaha)
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry
Be in control of your own shit, of your own creations
Know what I'm sayin'? Like be a creator (wait)
Like, I feel, like, when you create your shit
When you know whatchu want, know what I mean? (Wait)
Don't let nobody get in between you and your creation
If you want somethin', it gotta be that (wait)
If it's ain't good, it's 'cause you know it
Nobodies gonna tell you, know what I'm sayin'? (Wait)
I wasn't thinkin' about the masses yet, I'm thinkin' 'bout my hood (wait)
You know what I'm sayin'? I'm like, "Nah, I got to drop another one for the hood"
As long as you ain't on no sucker shit, you'll be aight (wait)
You good, real niggas gonna vibe with real niggas
Know what I'm sayin'? You ain't Woo, you ain't winnin' in this shit
Wait
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry (baow)
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry, huh, wait (baow, woo)
Hahaha (hahaha)
Yeah, hol' on
Woo, woo, woo, woo, woo
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry (baow)
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry
I said, "Don't get it twisted, just 'cause I smile a lot
That don't mean I'm with the foolery" (baow)
When I walk in my school, all the staff fool wit' me
I'm like, "You used to tutor me" (woo)
I stay in the cut like a Band-Aid (cut)
And that's where my shooters be (baow)
Run down, gun tucked (grrt), tool on me, tool on me (woo)
Left switch, Pop Smoke (Pop Smoke)
They do not know what you started
I pop a Perc', go retarded, then mack up the 'Rari
Then f*ck up my grandmother 'partment
I'm rockin' Louis V, Louis V (Louis V)
'Cause I ain't too pressed with Dior
No tellin', but I'm the Messiah, now
I'm the creator, I got the drip in my pores
I can not never, I could never kiss a whore
F*ck her life up, then go up on tour, huh
She know we up on the board
I got the .45 tucked in my drawers
They like, "What's on your ring?", Eleven Carats
That come with a bad bitch and a mansion and she from Paris
Merci beaucoup (merci beaucoup)
I don't got nothin' to prove (nah)
It's either you win or you lose
It's either you win or you lose
And I don't really care what your gang claim
All I know is my niggas is Woo
Saucin', hol' on, woos, huh
I shoot a nigga out the coupe
Wait
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry
Wait
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry
Cash
Wait
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry
Wait (hahaha)
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry
Catch a opp and I'm takin' his jewelry
Be in control of your own shit, of your own creations
Know what I'm sayin'? Like be a creator (wait)
Like, I feel, like, when you create your shit
When you know whatchu want, know what I mean? (Wait)
Don't let nobody get in between you and your creation
If you want somethin', it gotta be that (wait)
If it's ain't good, it's 'cause you know it
Nobodies gonna tell you, know what I'm sayin'? (Wait)
I wasn't thinkin' about the masses yet, I'm thinkin' 'bout my hood (wait)
You know what I'm sayin'? I'm like, "Nah, I got to drop another one for the hood"
As long as you ain't on no sucker shit, you'll be aight (wait)
You good, real niggas gonna vibe with real niggas
Know what I'm sayin'? You ain't Woo, you ain't winnin' in this shit
Writer: Bashar Barakah Jackson, Chad Hugo, Pharrell L. Williams
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Outro
Haha, mami like
Mami like, "Damn boy, you made it" (man, you did)
But she said, "You ain't nice" (at all)
I tell her I know I'm nice, ha
Look, I don't talk to niggas (nah), I don't feel these niggas (at all)
Got a hundred round in my pocket, I'm ready, go kill these niggas (brrt, brrt)
Look and it's tunnel vision (yeah) when I'm in the field, nigga (in the field)
If I tell Mikey Woo (Woo), then he gon' go drill a nigga (grrt, baow)
I'm a Brooklyn nigga (Brooklyn), but shout out my Philly niggas (my Philly niggas)
I don't f*ck with a lot of niggas because I'm too real for niggas (yeah, nah)
They don't know what it means (yeah) to have million dollar dreams (dreams)
Then you wake up on the block and it's back to servin' fiends (yeah)
I don't drink Belaire (nah), but I'm in Bel Air like I'm Uncle Phil
Don't call me bluff, nigga, I am and, nigga, I will, look (nigga, I will)
And I'm from the fields (woo), now it's million dollar deals (woo)
And it's all out of nowhere, push me and I'ma go there
All in a second, gun kickin' like it's Tekken (buck, buck)
I'm a force to be reckoned, I'm God's perfection
Look, God gave me a lot in some months, but it could go in a second
If I f*ck the wrong bitch (woo) or walk up in the wrong session
I don't talk to niggas (nah), I don't feel these niggas (at all)
Got a hundred round in my pocket, I'm ready, go kill these niggas (brrt, brrt)
Look and it's tunnel vision (yeah) when I'm in the field, nigga (in the field)
If I tell Mikey Woo (Woo), then he gon' go drill a nigga (grrt, baow)
I'm a Brooklyn nigga (Brooklyn), but shout out my Philly niggas (my Philly niggas)
I don't f*ck with a lot of niggas because I'm too real for niggas (yeah, nah)
They don't know what it means (yeah) to have million dollar dreams (dreams)
Then you wake up on the block and it's back to servin' fiends (yeah, nah)
Uh, stepped in the game, started changin' it, changin' it, haha
Never who, forever the Woo
What do you want your impact to be on the music industry?
Like, a hundred years from now, how do you want people to remember you?
Pop Smoke did this, he did that, he did what?
Pop Smoke came in and changed the game
Pop Smoke came in and showed them niggas a new vibe
You know, the whole sound, the whole vibe, the whole movement
Different
Forever my heart, forever my dawgs
We still gon' put on for you
The smoke will never clear
Never
Woo, woo, woo, grrt, baow
Mami like, "Damn boy, you made it" (man, you did)
But she said, "You ain't nice" (at all)
I tell her I know I'm nice, ha
Look, I don't talk to niggas (nah), I don't feel these niggas (at all)
Got a hundred round in my pocket, I'm ready, go kill these niggas (brrt, brrt)
Look and it's tunnel vision (yeah) when I'm in the field, nigga (in the field)
If I tell Mikey Woo (Woo), then he gon' go drill a nigga (grrt, baow)
I'm a Brooklyn nigga (Brooklyn), but shout out my Philly niggas (my Philly niggas)
I don't f*ck with a lot of niggas because I'm too real for niggas (yeah, nah)
They don't know what it means (yeah) to have million dollar dreams (dreams)
Then you wake up on the block and it's back to servin' fiends (yeah)
I don't drink Belaire (nah), but I'm in Bel Air like I'm Uncle Phil
Don't call me bluff, nigga, I am and, nigga, I will, look (nigga, I will)
And I'm from the fields (woo), now it's million dollar deals (woo)
And it's all out of nowhere, push me and I'ma go there
All in a second, gun kickin' like it's Tekken (buck, buck)
I'm a force to be reckoned, I'm God's perfection
Look, God gave me a lot in some months, but it could go in a second
If I f*ck the wrong bitch (woo) or walk up in the wrong session
I don't talk to niggas (nah), I don't feel these niggas (at all)
Got a hundred round in my pocket, I'm ready, go kill these niggas (brrt, brrt)
Look and it's tunnel vision (yeah) when I'm in the field, nigga (in the field)
If I tell Mikey Woo (Woo), then he gon' go drill a nigga (grrt, baow)
I'm a Brooklyn nigga (Brooklyn), but shout out my Philly niggas (my Philly niggas)
I don't f*ck with a lot of niggas because I'm too real for niggas (yeah, nah)
They don't know what it means (yeah) to have million dollar dreams (dreams)
Then you wake up on the block and it's back to servin' fiends (yeah, nah)
Uh, stepped in the game, started changin' it, changin' it, haha
Never who, forever the Woo
What do you want your impact to be on the music industry?
Like, a hundred years from now, how do you want people to remember you?
Pop Smoke did this, he did that, he did what?
Pop Smoke came in and changed the game
Pop Smoke came in and showed them niggas a new vibe
You know, the whole sound, the whole vibe, the whole movement
Different
Forever my heart, forever my dawgs
We still gon' put on for you
The smoke will never clear
Never
Woo, woo, woo, grrt, baow
Writer: Andre Michael Loblack, Bashar Barakah Jackson, Carson Hackney, Jugraj Singh Nag
Copyright: Lyrics © CARSON JAMES HACKNEY, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © CARSON JAMES HACKNEY, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.