album cover
Glock 17
Hip-Hop
Glock 17 was released on May 22, 2026 by Black Soprano Family, LLC as a part of the album Sold More White Than Jessica
album cover
Release DateMay 22, 2026
LabelBlack Soprano Family, LLC
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM143

Music Video

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Duffel Bag Hottie
Duffel Bag Hottie
Rap
Black Soprano Family
Black Soprano Family
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Julian Beavers
Julian Beavers
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
BSF
BSF
Producer

Lyrics

Yeah, you know
It's the Clown Gang, *****
Man, this my type of shit right here, *****
You know, this is the shit supposed to sound like, *****
Yeah, yeah, look
That nerve of him for poppin' out with that fake watch
I'm in federal vustody, city knots, state props
Feelin' broke, ****** bank stops
He work off I'll blow a hole through his tank top
I'm baggin' shit from China while I'm listenin' to K-Pop
Tell him crack this freak K. Flocka
And double two while they at it
His bitch got three rounds in her, that's why he rattle her
Fuck dope talk with a fire action from upstate New York
I served the whole brick out the taxi
I stay posted at the store, then I'm buyin' jacks
They out there with them North faces
Murmots and Helly Hansons
The gun's fast in the snow, baby
And Yonex the striker, speaking barely Cantonese
Bein' work at showgirls, she belly dancin'
She spread her ass for a tiff, she might let you hit
If you walk up out the dance floor
All my ****** shoot like
Gilligan's
Alexandria I wouldn't have been home if it wasn't for my hands
And I'm aging well, they say I ain't handsome
Life is a dope runner, make sure the dope gutter
I made a G is dead for like four summers I added those numbers
Then you added Tunecore, shit
And Jon from NEXT records
My flow just went to second gear, a 70 on my neck instead
Paid it from your record player I was in the box at Killer Canin'
Work ain't for no pound
They threw a ***** off the second floor
I lit up and I said his prayer
I couldn't shed a tear
I don't know what's worse, the living ADX Or the electric chair
I know for sass and work, and the extra spare I hit the turnpike
before I pulled off ***** told me bring that extra square
The trap went on like six feet of snow, I put on extra layers
Valentine's Day, she on a rack, I bring her extra head
Okay now let's be clear I've been having two hoes at the same time
You fucking with them hoes, that's what it must be dear
Last year, seventeen, I'm coming home to a quarter mill
A ten-pack in my jeans, I blow it all on a fancy meal
I need a fancy deal, refuse to die in jail
I know that cancer kills I'm getting' my colon check and runnin' next to stand
It's up, real talk *****
Written by: Julian Beavers
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