album cover
Subway
208
Hip-Hop/Rap
Subway was released on September 5, 2019 by AK Bandamont as a part of the album Gametime - EP
album cover
Release DateSeptember 5, 2019
LabelAK Bandamont
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM188

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
AK Bandamont
AK Bandamont
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kapone James
Kapone James
Lyrics
Daniel Ray Robinson, Jr.
Daniel Ray Robinson, Jr.
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Beats By Sav
Beats By Sav
Producer

Lyrics

(Ooh, Sav killed it)
Ayy, this that one, Sav
AK Bandamont, bitch, I get bands a lot, bitch
Good look on this beat, Sav
I stuffed the three bags, then weeks later, the bitch in rehab
I finessed my lil' cousin out of three bags
I could've took three stacks and left you broke, you better be glad
I fuck around with balls and put 'em in hoops, bitch, I'm T Mack
My **** hit ten zips the other day and made thirteen racks
****, they never put in work like when you cheat class
I know some fiends who hear a testers and start to breathe crack
Shit, now it's not so bleeding
I fucked her mouth for thirty minutes straight, now her tonsils bleeding
CTG, way out of Backwoods, I'ma fronto leaf it
Kill a **** while sittin' in church with granny, you is not no demon
Now my hoes in stare
It's two pints in this two liter, can't fit more in here
I filled the room up with all blues, but ain't no Crips in here
I cooked some shit up with my nephew and it look crystal clear
Go tell the hams this ice, I made a killin' off a chandelier
I whipped the stick on him and took off runnin', left his mans in fear
Hit a lick, my dog posted with dragon, we got bandagear
Bro get to blastin', murder rounds out that cannon, had this bitch for years
Ho, I be beat spinnin'
Lil' dog can't aim from far, but hit up close, I call him Ben Simmons
If you sellin', gotta hit your guns to see if they hit different
You cop a bag, pay somethin' I hit a test 'cause you a bitch ****
Took it out the freezer, it started meltin', had to refridge it
We ain't gotta go and find these ****, they gon' keep snippin'
You think I ain't hit that shit I hit? You must be hittin'
Oh, y'all thought I was done?
I pop him in this whip, how **** done like why you got a lung?
Fucked an opp, I fucked his bitch ten times, and lace his only son
They finna take his kid away and they only one
Heard he was trappin', have my cousin take his only bun
****, I'll bitch slap you and take that 41
Unc' a lil' hitman until this day, he forty-one or somethin'
Don't brag about home invasion when she finally kicked the door for once
I was chill, makin' bands runnin' through cribs and did it more than once
Unc' movin' some shit that might just kill you if you snort it up
And if it was ever smoke, I hit my drawer for guns
I'm runnin' out of patience, I got cheese to get informants touched
I need an antipsychotic
Finna drop a **** broad day, pop three Xans and go blow chronic
If my dreads grew long when I caught bodies, I'd be Bob Marley
The dog I robbed done damn near stomped to death over some fraud Cartis
I know a **** stretchin' hardballs
Shit, I was used to trap and made ten off credit card fraud
Chop'll knock a group of **** down like when you bowling ball
I shoot accurate with this bitch, I could blow a frog
Ran through ten fiends checked, that was a Monday
Shit, who want gunplay? I shoot your car up on one way
I'm what you need, ten of 'em wrapped, meet me at Subway
I brung the choir to a **** granny on a Sunday
Written by: Kapone James
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