album cover
Head Taps
album cover
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Últimos 7 días
Head Taps se descubrió con más frecuencia alrededor de 20 segundos después la canción durante la última semana

Letra

[Intro]
Go
Long live my brother, we did kill your bitch-ass brother
Go, go, go, go (Ayy, who do that? John Gotitt)
[Verse 1]
Broad day, face shot, lil' ****, I done seen it
**** not like my ****, we demons
Get caught, get laced, ****, it's that season
If I'm smokin' on an opp, then that mean we the reason
Park the hot, get on feet, walkin' down they block
Every Glock got a switch with a drum or a mop
Secret-ass ****, startin' to think you a cop, go, go
[Chorus]
When we jump out, all you hear is Dracs and switches
Streets got a lot of don't-let-me-out-ass ****
Make excuses, he ain't slidin', these **** be bitches
Spank they ass for all that dissin'
Tried to run up in the store, but the field had tripped him
Got shot in my leg, next month I was spinnin'
But the only difference is
When shh got caught, bitch, we killed him
Forty-seven shots stickin' out my glizzy
Rookie-ass **** tryna put all fifty
Dick-suckin' my opps, tryna clique up with 'em
Your bitch ass better be ready for what come with it
Young rich turnt ****, still slidin' through the trenches
Long live my twin, **** know we come different
We was takin' shit and head-tappin' ****
No excuse, we had three windows
[Verse 2]
Can't get you, I'ma get your cousin
Make your ass go do some thuggin'
Slowin' down on drugs, my bitch steady fussin'
Know that lil' shit ain't 'bout nothin'
I send shots, these **** duckin'
Got a drop on an opp, you know we gon' rush 'em
I'm a young turnt ****, fuckin' her and her cousin, go
[Chorus]
When we jump out, all you hear is Dracs and switches
Streets got a lot of don't-let-me-out-ass ****
Make excuses, he ain't slidin', these **** be bitches
Spank they ass for all that dissin'
Tried to run up in the store, but the field had tripped him
Got shot in my leg, next month I was spinnin'
But the only difference is
When shh got caught, bitch, we killed him
Forty-seven shots stickin' out my glizzy
Rookie-ass **** tryna put all fifty
Dick-suckin' my opps, tryna clique up with 'em
Your bitch ass better be ready for what come with it
Young rich turnt ****, still slidin' through the trenches
Long live my twin, **** know we come different
We was takin' shit and head-tappin' ****
No excuse, we had three windows
Written by: Erik Rupper, John Ramirez, Leon Krol, Mikquale Cooper
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