album cover
Target Practice (feat. FL3A)
album cover
Target Practice (feat. FL3A) was released on May 8, 2026 by Loyalty Gang as a part of the album This Is For The Trenches
May 8, 2026
LabelLoyalty Gang
LanguageEnglish
BPM82
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy

Lyrics

Pop a pill, candy, and slick
Me and bro out on the crib
Catch an opp, why he going dick?
That ARP, knock him out his snakes
Murder gang, ain't for the weak
Tryna drop some every week
In the V with a pretty freak
She gon' eat the dick, took her out the egg
In the hood like Andy Frese
wet a ***** like Mount Krii
Cops grab me, won't hear a peep
Cops grab me, when we gave a speech
Fuck the opps, cause the guys love me
Know the cops gettin' tired of me
Smoke, ***** don't hide from me
Had a gun him down he had size on me
Had a gun him down he had size on me
Like pop, ***** all eyes on me
Slow down, bitch, I got pause on me
You a goofy ***** you Paul Bart
Punish on me in a four spark
I let it go into Walmart
AMG, we in all sharks
In a field, in a ball park
Dick eatin' caught him outside
And I heard he died with his mouth blocked
Kill a ***** had no regrets
Dirt net, then he overslept
Free wreck, love him to death
Rollie on me, finna gold Patek
Gimme head, I really over sex
All these ****** really show respect
Leave a hopper with an open chest
Smack a ***** like an open neck
Look at this, smack a ***** like a open neck
Open neck, no respect
Baby Drake get him soaked up,
You ain't a shooter, you done choked up
He'll kill you, man, I don't like show, fuck it
Two hundred on her lashes, she ain't even askin'
Might do Louis V, this for her fashion
Double C, her glasses
Bought a Hellcat and crashed it cause I'll drive the fastest
Two Stollies with the brodies, let's do Tony
In case you ain't know, lil' bitch, I'll pop out and blow this bitch, no Bible
Ayy, lil' bae, come here
Boy, how you crossed the gate?
****** should've had took you out,
I get motivated from inside I love big bro, he up two hundred thousand
If I call white right now, I'll drop it off, my daddy say he violent
And I had lost the plug, I had to try, bro gave me a hundred ounces
And BG paid my bills for like ten months, lil' ***** I love you down
And the last ***** I heard played with smoke, got left and then lost and found
And BK came home and ran it back up, ***** I like your style
The old ****** tryna penetrate the hood, shit damn near broke us down
I pray for whatever got, a lil' ***** play, then he got shot
It's still free chop, brr, and bop
I come off the hip, but I don't rock
I give up the bricks and take it to something to eat if she wanna come off the top
I'm tryna slide and take it to something, but she wanna stay on the block
The fuck we doing?
I'm a rockstar, I be balling, bitch, I feel like Patrick Ewing
If she don't think i know she fucked my bro I must be stupid
When I ain't got no drink now thats that shit that make me loose it
She ain't fuck cause you a loser
I fuck cause I be shootin'
IZZY bitch we be deep like a behive my *****
We send ****** to swim with the fishes and he can get deep fried, my *****
I get the streets high, and me? I shine like B-Ride, my *****
Bitch I just throw up the F, I do not throw up a peace sign, my *****
Written by: Albert Robinson, Alexander Whitehouse, Exzabrien Colon, Ruben D Colon
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