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letra de cactus (ft. tdt & coreyke) [prod. saint cardona] - justonho

verse 1 (justonho):
i’m guessing it’s ‘stonho’s turn
so sit back, just watch, and learn
from atlanta, but i’m not earn;
ushering new sounds; let it burn
in a black coupe listening to “the furns”
got a lot of sticks, but the b-tter don’t churn
but we still eat cause we got a lot of plates
still up on the bench, just with more weight

label getting mad cause i’m making them wait
they worried bout the album, i’m focused on the tape
on a tour bus, but no elimi-date
with a bad chick, well, more like 8
getting feedback on our song “irate”
they said they’re all hungry, but i already ate
“it’s only francars, no you can’t havе steak,”
“and i ain’t taking none of y’all to cheesecakе”

6 of them left and only 2 of them stayed
still made them lap up on the way to va
it’s the 2 of them and the gang with meh:
specifically kite$, touchdown, and jay

“papi, i think you need some gas”
baby you don’t know sh-t bout my whip
“papi slow down, you’re going to fast!”
i like to treat my bimmer like it’s a sp-ceship
still keep a michael jordan on my hip
that’s a .45 you ain’t gotta google it
i know you’re thinking 23 but listen don’t forget;
he wore 45 once back in ‘96
‘stonho loves the kids and ‘stonho loves the jits
‘stonho loves exotic women, places, and, whips
‘stonho is a chopstar til the last clip;
‘stonho is a chopstar til the last clip!

verse 2 (tdt):
.45 in the left, .23 to the right
don’t worry bout the clips cause you know my shot’s tight
might take your girl, but i won’t treat her right
i come thru quick like a thief in the night
gone in 30 seconds, speeding thru the light
y’all boys look broke, peddle on bikes
your girlfriend a track, we’ll speed race in that
i’m trying it once, she get kicked to the back

chop in this b-tch like we in a forest
have you holding flowers like you is a florist
big knots in my pocket, they covered in garlic
don’t mess with ‘stonho, he going brolic
that boy coreykite$, though he from the city
he coming thru, and choppin you down
that boy jay montana he come with the blammer
he laying you 6 feet under the ground (bow!)
verse 3 (corey kite$):
put a n-gga 6 feet underground
piece him like bond, don’t make a song
send a beat, i’ll chop that sound
dripping on drops, i never drown
f-ck with me, he on cnn
beef with the gang never seen again
shawty at 10, let me see your friend
lightskinned teacher gonna let me bend

i put that s-m-n right their on her skin
i put his head in a scope in a lens
corona diamonds, water washing my hands
and i don’t like her, i just sort of pretend
dumping product like i’m high in demand
all this money make her twerk on command
f-ck 12 cause they f-ck with my kin
choppa eat a pig like he was skins

choppa go rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat
f-cked on yo hoe and i never came back
now she calling me like “where you at?”
i’m in the trap, n-gga tracks like crack
ion do dap cause these n-ggas whack
shooting that shot cause i got great stats
cut-throat ke, boy don’t get stabbed
n-ggas want smoke? then we got dabs!
hot hot hot
shout out to my n-gga touchdown trent and my n-gga ‘stonho
i’m gone! (b-tch!)

- justonho

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