N Traffic - Blac Youngsta X 42: testi di canzoni, video musicali e concerti

Blac Youngsta X 42

N Traffic

2314

Hip-Hop/Rap

N Traffic è stato pubblicato il 12 agosto 2025 da Nashville B Bogotá come parte dell'album N Traffic - Single

Dettagli della canzone

AlbumN Traffic - Single

Data di uscita12 agosto 2025

EtichettaNashville B Bogotá

Melodicità

Acousticità

Valence

Ballabilità

Energia

BPM84

PANORAMICA

TESTI

Crediti

PERFORMING ARTISTS

Blac Youngsta

Accordion

Blac Youngsta X 42

Blac Youngsta X 42

Performer

Edgar Smithsonian

Edgar Smithsonian

Rap

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

Dion Hayes

Songwriter

Sammie Benson

Songwriter

PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING

Edward Robinson

Edward Robinson

Producer

Testi

[Intro]

(I got Hitman on the beat)

I do a drill in a Caddy, duck back with a baddie

Fah, fah, fah

[Verse 1]

Still miss my brother and my daddy, see me and bruh got them Pateks

I feel like **** been talkin' down

Ain't see my youngin or my granny, I'm still thuggin' with Shannon

No, he can't sell drugs when I'm around

I made the most in the Nadi, might bulletproof all the Caddies

Bitch, these zoolers, not baguettes, the only reason it's heavy

And I dodge most feds and the fetty

Me and Youngsta in traffic while **** grievin', we laughin'

Not ever up, I'm blastin', two condos, a mansion

My sprinter feel like a trap how I'm stretchin' over rappin'

Apple still got a nap, Nell still doin' hits

My baby mama bitch trippin', probably want another kid

This time I'm goin' big, big

And I ain't sayin' I didn't, if I did, shit, it is still what it is

One point four on the crib, I never really done been there

But the pool heated, with a eight car garage

Yeah, I'm full, ****, even take off from hat

Bitch, ain't no surprise we the **** on top

Val always told me, "Dugg, don't stop"

Spent sixty on a Rollie, bust down the sides

Ayy, Youngsta, we on they ass

Twelve cars with tags, a thousand, that's just for gas

Me, Gotti, Geeski, and Bagg

[Verse 2]

Real street **** from the trenches, ****, we gon' die 'bout our respect

Believe that (What's up?)

Pistol to your throat, it's over with, boy, you ain't comin' back (Bah, bah, bah)

**** took my dog, ran for his life, ran like a runnin' back

Tried to play it cool, they crossed me out, I hate it come to that

I'm tryna politic with them gangsters, where them gunners at? (Gang)

I met a pretty big booty bitch, I'm tryna run with that (Tryna run with that)

I'm on some young and turnt shit, burn the head in the thundercat (In the thundercat)

They told me, "Youngsta, stop sendin' shots," I sent a hundred back (The fuck you mean?)

You know I really don't give a fuck, I'm tryna finish that (Pussy ****)

Hard for them to breathe (Yeah, yeah)

My childhood life, I had it rough, I used to sleep in trees (I swear to God)

I had no choice, we ain't have no neighbors, no family 'cross the street (Yeah)

They know I'm known for killin' shit, had to plant that seed (Grrt)

Life for a life, you play with me, that's the type shit I'm on (Bitch)

I'm spinning blocks with my little dog, he tryna crack a dome (Grrt)

He put on for the camp so hard, I put his name in a song

He gonna rep this to death even if he in the cell alone (To death, ****)

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (On blood)

Movin' with that tooly, you know grandma raised me well

I'm tryna send some blocks to my dog off in the mail (Mail)

One thing that's for sure, you know that salt don't kill a player (No, no, no)

How you keepin' it a buck but you gon' tell? (No, no, no, no)

When I'm speakin' positive, I still feel like a hypocrite (Yeah)

I'm the type of **** you ask me why, I pull my trigger quick (Yeah, yeah, yeah)

I'm a made man, on some Godfather shit, get you clipped up quick (Yeah)

I don't pay for hits, boy, I pay my shooters to take a trip (Take a trip)

Tried to keep it solid with ****, they soft, so **** dipped (Ayy, fuck 'em)

I was movin' work on my young **** shit like Jigga them (On Blood)

Tried to bite the hand that feed you, I had to get rid of them (Look)

You know what we do to pussies after we ain't feelin' them (Tried to tell you)

You know what I do to hoes after I ain't feelin' them (Huh)

I'ma kill that pussy, if I bump into my opps, I'm killin' them (In my section)

Sexy lil' walk, yeah, she fine, feelin' her

Bust down Rollie come from Shine, killin' them (Yeah)

[Outro]

You know them my lil'— yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

You know them my lil'— yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

I'm tryin'— uh, uh, yeah

Written by: Dion Hayes, Sammie Benson

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