album cover
Uncle Willie
401
Hip-Hop/Rap
Uncle Willie was released on October 25, 2025 by FTO Sett as a part of the album CROOKTOBER
album cover
Release DateOctober 25, 2025
LabelFTO Sett
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM70

Music Video

Music Video

Lyrics

[Intro]
Outrun the dog
Run, go for the treat, Mr. Postman
Run, Forrest, run
Dog shit, Uncle Willie
Give me a glass of water
Mr. Postman
Give him some water, shoot this dog
It's your ass, Mr. Postman
Money grow out of trees already, stupid-ass ****
It ain't no problem doin' this shit, yeah (Huncho made this)
[Chorus]
Lamb chop got a rattle, fuck the city, Domika all lickin' me up
Smoke a dead ****, smoke be up
I can hop out on any block fresh as fuck
He can't go to jail, gotta get him stuck
Told brother send the CO 'cause I'm fucked
I'm still Mr. Head-tap, don't forget it
I'm the after call, ****, don't be ignant
I hang up the call, he ain't talkin' 'bout digits
Ain't duckin', I just shot at close distance
It's some bread up on this mission (Money up on it)
I hit the G play with precision (Brrt)
Cuh playin' **** out, I know the vision
You gotta die for this shit, that's your decision (Your decision)
Put boxes on Glocks, that's my addiction
Just like Biz, get business, can't stop flippin' (Stop flippin')
[Verse 1]
Like Smurk, my **** can't stop sippin' (Stop sippin')
He died with a fifty, got popped with it (Pop with him)
Full clip, he had all the shots with him
Fourteen, Glock, six shots in it
Free cuh, we take 'em down, double missin'
Steamers on the block, me like double dissin' (Double dissin')
I got dog shit everywhere, Uncle Willie (Uncle Willie)
We catch an opp, that's your ass, Mr. Postman (Mr. Postman)
Don't even ask when the head-tap caught him, free Number Nine for the toe-tag (On the run, though)
I'm shootin' KRISS Vec', they shootin' these ProMags, they tryna piss Sett off
Treat me like the hoes, they wanna see crash
(I'll pay for a hunnid 'bows, I'd be glad)
All exotic, no garbage bag (No garbage bag)
All exotic, no garbage bag
[Chorus]
Lamb chop got a rattle, fuck the city, Domika all lickin' me up
Smoke a dead ****, smoke be up
I can hop out on any block fresh as fuck
He can't go to jail, gotta get him stuck
Told brother send the CO 'cause I'm fucked
I'm still Mr. Head-tap, don't forget it
I'm the after call, ****, don't be ignant
I hang up the call, he ain't talkin' 'bout digits
Ain't duckin', I just shot at close distance
It's some bread up on this mission (Money up on it)
I hit the G play with precision (Brrt)
Cuh playin' **** out, I know the vision
You gotta die for this shit, that's your decision (Your decision)
Put boxes on Glocks, that's my addiction
Just like Biz, get business, can't stop flippin' (Stop flippin')
[Outro]
Lamb chop got a rattle, fuck the city, Domika all lickin' me up
Smoke a dead ****, smoke be up
I can hop out on any block fresh as fuck
He can't go to jail, gotta get him stuck
Told brother send the CO 'cause I'm fucked
I'm still Mr. Head-tap, don't forget it
I'm the after call, ****, don't be ignant
It's your ass, Mr. Postman
Written by: FTO Sett
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out􀆄 copy􀐅􀋲

Loading...