trl & danny g beats – infected lyrics
[intro]
(ooh, sh+t, that’s a danny g beat)
[verse 1]
don’t walk around with your head down, i’m giving you a heads up
i’m high as h+ll, in the ‘burbs with a headhunter
oh, speak up when you talk, thought you said somethin’
everybody tough until the blue and red come
i don’t like to drink ’cause that sh+t make me feel numb
i call her my b+tch, she be tryna have my real son
nah, i ain’t feelin’ you, press the chill b+tton
she like, “what you smokin’ on?” this sh+t k!ll lungs
if you tryna hit this ‘wood, then you gotta pay
i can’t be f+ckin’ all these b+tches, they gon’ drive me crazy
love went deep behind the wheel, but he ain’t drive dangerous
it ain’t money then i’m deaf, use sign language
[verse 2]
tell her everything gon’ be straight after this pill trip
pour an opp inside my pop, i ain’t tryna feel sh+t
n+ggas claim they on that, we pop out, n+ggas hit the fence
boy, what’s up with all that gangster sh+t that you was sayin’?
real sniper, when i aim, i’m tryna hit they head
i’m lockin’ in with my n+ggas, we stickin’ to the plan
so many drums around this b+tch, you’d think we in the band
n+ggas talkin’ crazy but they lackin’, doin’ all that playin’
never leave the house without fn, that’s how i gotta move
p+ssy, you don’t want this smoke for real, you better play it cool
it ain’t ’bout the sh+t you talkin’ ’bout, it’s ’bout the sh+t you do
don’t be claimin’ you my opp if i ain’t never sent shots at you
[verse 3]
yeah (get it)
this sh+t right here go stupid, grab my cup, i feel like tunechi (ooh)
fans hit my dm, tellin’ me to do more music (i got you)
god blessed me with the bag, i say hallelujah (amen)
toss my youngin down some cash, he gon’ overdo you
we too up, you lose it, my b+tch rockin’ louis
she don’t f+ck with gucci, when we hug, i grip her booty (d+mn)
i ain’t surprised that you switched, we already knew it (lame)
by the time you get a bag, i been ran through it (gone)
your b+tch fanned out, another man down (b+tch)
just throw in the towel (dummy), boy, stop actin’ wild (done)
b+tches treat me like a king, might as well rock a crown
talkin’ to her while i’m in it, say my name loud
[verse 4]
you a square like ravioli when you down on your ass and lonely
thought they really had my back, they folded, lil’ cousin’ them sn+tchin’ rollies
want me to put the package on ’em, tipper, he just can’t control
n+gga ass that i hit his ho, he know it, text back with the laugh emoji
never know who you gon’ bump into, [?] me at the coney
we ain’t trippin’, this a striker, and the first time i smacked the stoley
i ain’t got no rapper homies, really live what i’m rappin’, homie
took them l’s right to the chin, i turnt up, now i’m back in motion
i told her meet me at the telly, i f+ck a left with a letter
baby woke up b+tt naked, ain’t got my number, can’t even text
all my role models is felons, you p+ssy n+ggas stay tellin’
everybody turnin’ fake on me, it seem like an infection
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