letras.top
a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de target practice - teej, the artist

Loading...

[intro: teej, the artist]

y’all ain’t ready
yeah, teej
let’s get it

[verse 1: teej,the artist]

let’s get one thing straight
i’m living life my way
headed to hell on the highway
i don’t follow the faith
i don’t follow anyone
twitter, twitter
turning niggas into slaves
f-ck society
and conformity
i’ll make a milli
and amaze

niggas still tryna hate
critique everything that i say
these niggas, they want me to fail
they just f-cking motivate

i don’t really give a f-ck, son
i don’t really give a f-ck, son
wrote these bars on my samsung
taking shots, no handgun

[hook: teej, the artist]

d-mn
target practice
this is target practice (whoo!)
target practice
this is target practice
target practice (brr-brr)
this is target practice

[verse 2: teej, the artist]

i’m a k!ller
i’ma k!ll it
working on these rhymes
tryna be the illest

tryna be the realest
tryna make you feel it
i don’t think you get it
i think i’ve ascended

to a higher level
little blue devil
nigga, you ain’t special
i ain’t on your schedule
whoa

drop my shit by surprise, homie
when i spit it’s homicide, homie
got the number 45 on me
got their motherf-cking eyes on me

niggas acting like -ssholes
ab-soul, they ain’t abstract, son
the rhymes i be spitting are nasty
they don’t want me, to shine like a blacksun

[bridge: teej, the artist]

let it drop for a second
i come first, never second
y’all are just ok, b
y’all are just some babies
in real life, we compadres
but on the track, i gotta slay, b

i really don’t what to say to this
like…
i’m supposed to be doing some back-up vocals and shit, but like…
(clear my throat for a bit)
i don’t know what to say
i don’t know what to say

[verse 3: teej, the artist]

levitate, levitate, levitate
elevate my rhymes
up to heaven’s gates
i am not a saint

sinning everyday
now, i do not pray
i have lost my way

y’all slept, double blue tick
now, i’m making chess moves, b-tch
checkmate on the chess board
check, check, check, check for it

running this game, like a programmer
desiigning clothes. nigga, no panda
this shit popping, it’s a club banger
i don’t f-ck with these contractors

adolescent is the clan
iv, that’s fam
we been working on some mixtapes
keep it locked on the ‘gram. d-mn

[hook: teej, the artist]

target practice
this is target practice
target practice (brr-brr)
this is target practice

[verse 4: teej, the artist]

man, a nigga just fifteen
and my bars so pristine
i wrote this shit in like two days
you know a nigga just don’t play

got the juice. concentrate
they don’t hear me, anyway
f-ck around on the track
i ain’t really do jack

i’m too lit, bonfire, man
i’m too legit, like clothing brands
and my clique sick, like xhosa clans
these niggas plain, like serif sans (ah!)

they glorify
these whack niggas, i’m horrified
they don’t pay attention to these
real niggas, spitting more than fire

[outro: teej, the artist]

punchlines too sick
y’all can’t stomach this shit
(mumbles)
i’ma mumble this shit
cause it ain’t gon’ be on the track, though
i’ma mumble, mumble, mumble
cause i can’t freestyle, though!

i slay

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS

Loading...