Oh (uh), oh
Hello? (Hey)
I can't hear you, what'd you say?
What's up?
Nothin', I'm just recording right now, I'ma call you right back
Okay, call me
They pout the racks on the count up in Cali'
If she bring it back, I ain't doin' the dash
You put up a half, so just try to be mad at me
I could survive, it's just part of the plan
And you know I'm ballin' like I'm at the Mattamy
In front of the haters, in front of the fans
She giving me brain like my place an academy
If you need a tape then I need an advance
I been in the trap and the buckets keep calling me
Man, I couldn't lie, I might do it again
Wait, you remember them niggas that doubted me?
I'm lookin' right through 'em in Cartier lens
No round of applause, a nigga get clapped
I'm thinkin' of ways to get to the bag
If I'm in a race, I ain't coming last
If he in my way, then he gettin' passed
And she a lil' ho, she fuck for the bag
And cro on the road, he on your ass
Wrist lookin' like glass
More than a brick, more than a shaft
Breakin' the piece and I'm crushin' the pack
Used to wear the same beat everyday in the trap
Used to sell the same bean everyday for bag
On the North of the Jane where we keepin' them straps
Here it goes, I wanna blow
I wanna know what I'm meant to do
He took a L, that's how life goes
We gonna win, ain't tryna lose
I'm in the field, I got nothin' to prove
Say he a shooter and ain't even shoot
You super cap, you ain't tellin' the truth
.223 and FN make a nigga go, "Poof"
Here it goes, I wanna blow (oh)
I wanna know what I'm meant to do
He took a L, that's how life goes (oh)
We gonna win, ain't tryna lose
I'm in the field, I got nothin' to prove (oh)
Say he a shooter and he ain't even shoot
You super cap, you ain't tellin' the truth (oh)
.223 and FN make a nigga go, "Poof"
She wanna go, she wanna take it all over the globe
I got them shooters movin' like it's Call of Duty
'Cause they goin' crazy with the scopes
I'm on the road, anybody fuckin' with me
You know they gettin' Peter Roe'd
Niggas didn't see me and Houdini
Poppin' up on the bitches on the low
'Cause that was my brodie, you niggas dissin' up the crodie
You know that I'm clutchin' the 4
60K, seven, my bitch off the .40, I'm poppin' with denim
You know that I got it
I'm not a banker to none of my opps
But I promise them niggas gon' owe me deposits
He go to trip and then chill, check 'em
Say he ain't loaded but still check it
Houdini my brother, my real bredren
I know he watching us stuntin' from heaven
All of my watches, the bussin' in heaven
Ain't nobody finna run up, I'm steppin'
Bitch, I'm in charge, a hundred and seven K large
You now I gave tears to the reverand
All of the shootings and robberies we do inside of my hood
My niggas need repentance
Can't buy no Cuban bust down with no pendants
They wanna give me twenty-two, the sentence, ayy
I told them crackers holla back when they be sober
I smoke so much dope that I still feel like I'm sober
Balling in these bitches hole like a golfer
Bach, bitch, big Rolls' with the chauffeur, ah
Here it goes, I wanna blow
I wanna know what I'm meant to do
He took a L, that's how life goes
We gonna win, ain't tryna lose
I'm in the field, I got nothin' to prove
Say he a shooter and ain't even shoot
You super cap, you ain't tellin' the truth
.223 and FN make a nigga go, "Poof"
Here it goes, I wanna blow (oh)
I wanna know what I'm meant to do
He took a L, that's how life goes (oh)
We gonna win, ain't tryna lose
I'm in the field, I got nothin' to prove (oh)
Say he a shooter and he ain't even shoot
You super cap, you ain't tellin' the truth (oh)
.223 and FN make a nigga go, "Poof"
---
Here It Goes - Houdini and Tory Lanez
