album cover
Subject Matter
Hip-Hop/Rap
Subject Matter was released on October 29, 2021 by Offshore Los Angeles as a part of the album Subject Matter - Single
album cover
Release DateOctober 29, 2021
LabelOffshore Los Angeles
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM87

Credits

COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Furman Taylor
Furman Taylor
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Ty Holms
Ty Holms
Producer
Tynan Holmstrom
Tynan Holmstrom
Engineer

Lyrics

(Ha)
Cocaine dreams you should pray I'm on your team when we ride through
Whiskey is the bounty, better hope they never find you
She say that she got stories, I can read them through her tattoos
Told me as a boy her brother died selling caillou
Sick like swine flu, they say they got my spine
I'm landing in your city, but in time I'll make it mine
Her body grew on me, wrapped around me like a vine
You think I'm hot now baby wait until my prime
I'm coolin' with some slimes and we steady serving bangers
My crew some wild animals, no government can tame us
We put it in containers, but who could really blame us
Stanky weed out of this world like Uranus
Sippin' on this Irish like I'm motherfuckin' Seamus
Mix it with the xannys got a **** actin' brainless
Pour up cups of purple, take you to another planet
You hated, I'm shameless, I'm famous, your nameless
They actin' like they don't know who I am
Remember back in Pelham we was yelling go HAM
I got some bigger plans
I'm just gon' rack up these bands
(Look)
The bars are lovely, my visions fuzzy
I'm rollin' J's and sippin' bubbly, the ladies love me
We cannot cuddle, you were a sub hoe, nothing but trouble
Call my bros though, we may do double, but nothing more hoe
I call a shuttle, then leave a puddle
I am so cutthroat, my **** cut throats
We drinking whiskey by the handle, me and my fam though
We send more shots than max ammo, blow out your candle
Guess you've chose wrong again though, you fucking simples
I'm the one that's stackin' dead folks, these rappers rentals
All this time you fucking spent bro, still chasing cents though
You think my flow ain't fucking sick bro, kidnap your kinfolk
Stars bump me in they limos, right after Flaco
My bitch is foreign just like Paco, she love them tacos
To think you can't read all the hints though, you hoes nymphos
For all you rappers on the fence though, bring pen and pencil, and check your mental
They actin' like they don't know who I am
Remember back in Pelham we was yelling go HAM
I got some bigger plans
I'm just gon' rack up these bands
(Motherfucker)
Written by: Furman Taylor
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