Backseat (feat. J Neat)

Slatt, slatt Gats on gats, oh, straps all in the backseat (In the back, all up in the back seat) Gats on gats Got straps all up in the back seat, yo Packs on packs so Please, don't you harass me, no Who that boy, though? Not from no Degrassi though Who that bitch? Uh, movin' kinda nasty, oh Gats on gats Got straps all up in the back seat, yo Packs on packs so Please, don't you harass me, no Who that boy, though? Not from no Degrassi though Who that bitch? Uh, movin' kinda nasty, oh Straps on straps Got shooters in the backseat, oh She a freak She fuckin' to my tracks, oh oh Free the guys They told me heard me on the radio So I can't slip, I keep my stick My whole gang, they tryna score And I talk fast, uh All these niggas cappin', oh Oh snap, 'cause they done leaked his photo In the back and I got me a 44, oh Make him giddy up Like the horse up on his Polo I'm on the road I'm makin' plays just like it's Madden MCM hold my hammer, I perc with fashion These niggas don't want no smoke They don't want no static Fuck the doctor We gon' send your homie to a casket And fuck the doctor We gon' send your homie to a casket We ain't runnin' on no hardwood for a basket She say that she want a savage, a little lavish Run up on him, let him have it, fatal damage (Oh) slatt, slatt (run up on him like oh) (Shoutout my nigga J Neat, man) Straps all in the backseat, yo (In the back, all up in the back seat, yo) Gats on gats Got straps all up in the back seat, yo Packs on packs so Please, don't you harass me, no Who that boy, though? Not from no Degrassi though Who that bitch? Uh, movin' kinda nasty, oh Gats on gats Got straps all up in the back seat, yo Packs on packs so Please, don't you harass me, no Who that boy, though? Not from no Degrassi though Who that bitch? Uh, movin' kinda nasty, oh Ay, ay, she kinda nasty, yo Ay, ay, she a battri ho Ayy, ayy, I'm in my bag, get some more In my bag, get some more Pop a tag, get some more Ayy, baby, I be on the road Baby, I be on the go Baby, I be gettin' dough Ay, she poppin' bottles, that's for sure Poppin' xannies, that's for sure Do the gang, you gotta go Uh, ay, do the gang, you gotta go In the trap, I let it snow M Sav, he gon' let it blow Free K Sav up on the road Then we just rock another show She give me top, but goin' low Couldn't stop, she such a pro Never disrespect the bros Before I go and sell my soul I'd rather sell a brick of dope In the field, you tryna cope In the field, we tryna score Sniper gang, we totin' scopes Ask her what's her horoscope I'ma need you to play your role (Play your role, play your role, play your role) (I don't really need you, lil' ho) (I just really need, though) Slatt, slatt (I don't really need no more) Slatt, slatt, slatt, slatt, wass Gats on gats Got straps all up in the back seat, yo Packs on packs so Please, don't you harass me, no Who that boy, though? Not from no Degrassi though Who that bitch? Uh, movin' kinda nasty, oh Gats on gats Got straps all up in the back seat, yo Packs on packs so Please, don't you harass me, no Who that boy, though? Not from no Degrassi though Who that bitch? Uh, movin' kinda nasty, oh Kinda nasty, I'm in the back seat Shouldn't love me...