Top Songs By Q Garçons
Credits
AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Q Garçons
Stimme und Gesang
Samuel Parker
Rap
Jace Young
Rap
Isaiah Hernandez
Rap
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Angel Quiles
Songwriter:in
Samuel Parker
Songwriter:in
Jace Young
Songwriter:in
Isaiah Hernandez
Songwriter:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
ROBERT HOWARD HANNAH
Ingenieur:in
Lyrics
Fuck this shit-
Damn
I need a chase with this shit
Uh
It stars all up in this wraith so baby come and test it
I knew that I would be that **** since an adolescent
Street Dreams I feel like Nas
I'm tryna get the message
Dm-ing all these famous hoes
I'm tryna score like Messi
I need a loyal bitch not a backstabber
Like that bitch was Effie
I cannot go and walk down that block
Cause they was shooting, lefty
I heard they went to go and skip the towns
I hit up all my **** bitches
Hoes gone get around
Get around
I would hit that bitch make her feel like a clown
Skipping towns
Double cup my wock
You catch me trapping pounds
If we ain't got no blicks, you know brodie
He gone bring the poke
I'm tryna cruise the city with my ****
In aventador's
Got a lot of bullets in these rhymes
So I gotta let it off
King up in my city you know me a gotta set it off
Why they want to belittle me?
I been scorin'
I been balling since them little leagues
Since I was a little me
Clip got a bend in it, fuck it make a nana flip
Put you in a body bag only way you get a zip
If you drop a ****
Buss the hammer if he twitch
Using feet
Disrespect but the hammer got a kick
Mom give thanks when I call after 2
She happy I'm alive cause she know her son a fool
Wasn't tryna fix a problem
I still keep a tool
Wasn't tryna fix no problem
I still keep a tool
Came from the gutter, man that shit was wild
Word to my mother, different struggle being black and mild
I had to hustle, had to grow up, they can't see me down
I was the youngest on my block, I bet they see me now
I been turning up, foot on the pedal, I'm clutching the medal
Got smoke for who want it, I'm burning up
I ride through the city, I feel like Meek Milly
No Philly, too pretty, ain't touching us
Like really you **** can't fuck with us
Send my shooters like Giannis, he bucking up
Got my boys in the hood like he talking tough
Shoot him like Ricky, you better stop acting up
**** that's facts for real, I be blowing out backs for real
Okay
Like who got packs for sale, I be throwing out racks for real
Like what
I really be packing steel, fuck around get dropped quick
Packed and sealed
Yessir
I really got mass appeal
Your bitch be all on my banana peel (On God)
I been chillin with some demons I made friends with 'em
So don't be acting stupid 'cause I'm gone be sending 'em
And it get crazy it get wicked when we drive through
But you a bitch who talking shit, Im tryna find you
It's getting tragic
When I get the shooting like I'm Magic
Make a **** stretch, Fantastic
**** know my bop I blast it
Let me get on demon time
Keep the strap I sleep with mine
**** read between the lines
I'm a boss I keep the 9
But let me go hype it up
You gone' loose your life with us
Know I keep that lighter tucked
I spin the block I light it up
And shawty she gone suck me like a vacuum
In her walls I get in deeper than a tattoo
And she like when I be fucking with my chains on
I park the whip I clutch my stick I get my bang on
I get my bang on
This ain't the same song
Written by: Angel Quiles, Isaiah Hernandez, Jace Young, Samuel Parker
