album cover
Catch Shells
552
Hip-Hop/Rap
Catch Shells fue lanzado el 23 de septiembre de 2020 por TFR Distribution como parte del álbum Baby Wizard
album cover
Fecha de lanzamiento23 de septiembre de 2020
Sello discográficoTFR Distribution
IdiomaEnglish
Melodía
Nivel de sonidos acústicos
Valence
Capacidad para bailar
Energía
BPM139

Créditos

ARTISTAS INTÉRPRETES
BFG Straap
BFG Straap
Intérprete
COMPOSICIÓN Y LETRA
BFG Straap
BFG Straap
Letra
PRODUCCIÓN E INGENIERÍA
TrappinNLondon
TrappinNLondon
Producción

Letra

Putting racks in a backpack like I play tennis
Got my wrist in a pot until it lock like a chemist
Since a kid, I been savage like Dennis the menace
Big Straap USA, bitch, I'm the lieutenant
Ay, master P 'bout that, paper no limit
**** want me to fall off but I'ma keep winning
We don't hit you, we gon' double back if we spinning
The opps broke, don't want smoke, I'ma let 'em keep living
I got bad bitches lined up at a hotel
Putting racks in a rubber band like I got mail
Got sticks, will let 'em ring like a door bell
And it's Straap with 2 A's, no it's not misspelled
Yeah, and I'm still getting cheese like Rotel
No, we don't rap beef, yeah, we get shit straight, parallel
Double cup, hi tech, moving slow like a snail
Big 556 **** play "Catch Shells"
**** said I fell off, I'm back on and I'm better
All this ice on me cold, got me froze like I'm Elsa
Mini MAC-10 with suppressors, get caught and go federal
Yeah I done filled up a safe, left some racks in a dresser
I took off on they ass, didn't look back, I can't help 'em
Twenty bands in my pockets, flex hard like a wrestler
**** saying it's up but freeze up when we catch 'em
**** on that opp shit, boy, we can't wait to stretch 'em
In the trap house, bussing down pounds, tryna get off a load
I done ran my sack up, I got rich off of bows
You a rat, I ain't fucking with you 'cause you told
I was broke, now I walk around with a bankroll
I'm going beast mode
We gon' shoot back to back like a free throw
Big boss, what the fuck I'ma beef for?
Reach for this chain, get him smoked like a primo
Let's go
Stop talking to me bitch, 'fore I fuck up the count
We got Percocets, pounds, and bad hoes in the trap
Get his address, push up and put holes in his house
Trapping all year round, we don't know 'bout a drought
Just iced out my teeth, I ain't closing my mouth
All my **** strapped, they be tryna shoot a **** lights out
Boy you broke then a bitch, you ain't shit, better pipe down
Remember I ain't have shit, now I walk in, I'm iced out
Me and Duce, we pushing pounds on the back street
Smoking exotic, Draco on the backseat
I stayed down and I ran that shit up like a track meet
Out of town in a Lambo, shooters trail in a black Jeep
**** sneak dissing all on IG, tell 'em at me
I'm really getting racks, boy, these **** can't stand me
Ain't going broke, I'm wherever the cash be
Hit that bitch from the back and made her eat a Plan B
Got bad bitches lined up at a hotel
Putting racks in a rubber band like I got mail
Got sticks, we'll let 'em ring like a doorbell
And it's Straap with 2 A's, no it's not misspelled
Yeah, and I'm still getting cheese like Rotel
No, we don't rap beef, yeah, we get shit straight parallel
Double cup, hi tech, moving slow like a snail
Big 556 **** play "Catch Shells"
Written by: BFG Straap
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