album cover
The Message
1
Hip-Hop/Rap
The Message was released on January 26, 2020 by Red Fox Playa, Coldheart & Jonathan Clayton as a part of the album 3-Peat!
album cover
Album3-Peat!
Release DateJanuary 26, 2020
LabelRed Fox Playa, Coldheart & Jonathan Clayton
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM71

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Red Fox Playa
Red Fox Playa
Performer
Coldheart
Coldheart
Performer
Jonathan Clayton
Jonathan Clayton
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jonathan Clayton
Jonathan Clayton
Songwriter
Gregory Taylor
Gregory Taylor
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Ouhboy
Ouhboy
Producer

Lyrics

I gotta call up my guala
Need a couple ounces by tomorrow
I done run up a big check
Out here grinding, trapping, breaking necks
All of my n***as is lit
Run up on me wrong, I grab the glick
Got run up on by the cops
Straight hank, no Fetty Wap
N***a, this shit is so real
Peeps out here getting killed
I keep my hands on the steel
Eyes focused on the record deal
I gotta call up my guala
Need a couple ounces by tomorrow
I done run up a big check
Out here grinding, trapping, breaking necks
All of my n***as is lit
Run up on me wrong, I grab the glick
Got run up on by the cops
Straight hank, no Fetty Wap
N***a, this shit is so real
Peeps out here getting killed
I keep my hands on the steel
Eyes focused on the record deal
Got a wife so bad that the plug want her
N***a better back up, or he a fucking goner
To shots to your dome make you an organ doner
Just talking bout the shit give me a fucking boner
So you better stop running your mouth
Fore my n***as run up in your house
Red stains all over your couch
Push a button, boom, blow up your house
Pack your bags up, n***a get gone
Hurry up, cause you ain't got long
I'm telling you, n***a it's on
Gloves on, bitch crushing that chrome
I gotta call up my guala
Need a couple ounces by tomorrow
I done run up a big check
Out here grinding, trapping, breaking necks
All of my n***as is lit
Run up on me wrong, I grab the glick
Got run up on by the cops
Straight hank, no Fetty Wap
N***a, this shit is so real
Peeps out here getting killed
I keep my hands on the steel
Eyes focused on the record deal
I gotta call up my guala
Need a couple ounces by tomorrow
I done run up a big check
Out here grinding, trapping, breaking necks
All of my n***as is lit
Run up on me wrong, I grab the glick
Got run up on by the cops
Straight hank, no Fetty Wap
N***a, this shit is so real
Peeps out here getting killed
I keep my hands on the steel
Eyes focused on the record deal
I gotta call up my guala
I wanna drive an Impala
I’m about taking my pain
And use it for getting me popping
N***as be talking bout thugging, but if you ain’t grinding just stay in your lane
You be rocking a fake pair of timberlands I’m finna go for a platinum chain
N***as killing they partners for change
All they want is the money and fame
I been grinding so long I got links to my tracks and my Spotify stuck in my brain
Money stuck on my mind like a stain
N***as wildin they really deranged
By next year they be looking the same
Imma look at how far I done came (We made it)
I gotta call up my guala
Need a couple ounces by tomorrow
I done run up a big check
Out here grinding, trapping, breaking necks
All of my n***as is lit
Run up on me wrong, I grab the glick
Got run up on by the cops
Straight hank, no Fetty Wap
N***a, this shit is so real
Peeps out here getting killed
I keep my hands on the steel
Eyes focused on the record deal
Written by: Gregory Taylor, Jonathan Clayton
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