Here It Goes

[Houdini:]
Oh (uh), oh
Hello?
Hey, [?]
I can't hear you, what'd you say?
What's up?
Um, I'm just recording right now, I'ma call you right back
Okay, call me

They put the racks on the count' up in Cali'
If she bring it back, I ain't doing 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 balling 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 looking right through 'em in Cartier lens
No round of applause, a nigga get clapped
I'm thinking 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 getting passed
And she a lil' ho, she fuck for the bag
And cro on the road, he on your ass
Wrist looking like glass
More than a brick, more than a shaft
Breaking the piece and I'm crushing 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 keeping 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 nothing to prove
Say he a shooter and ain't even shoot
You super cap, you ain't telling 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 nothing to prove (Oh)
Say he a shooter and he ain't even shoot
You super cap, you ain't telling the truth (Oh)
.223 and FN make a nigga go, "Poof"

[Tory Lanez:]
She wanna go, she wanna take it all over the globe
I got them shooters moving like it's Call of Duty 'cause they going crazy with the scopes
I'm on the road, anybody fucking with me, you know they getting Peter Roe'd
Niggas didn't see me and Houdini
Popping up on the bitches on the low
'Cause that was my brodie, you niggas dissing up the crodie
You know that I'm clutching the 4
Sixty-K, seven, my bitch off the .40, I'm popping 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 stunting from heaven
All of my watches, they busting in heaven
Ain't nobody finna run up, I'm stepping
Bitch, I'm in charge, a hundred-and-seven-K large
You know I gave tears to the reverend
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 22 the sentence, ayy
I told them crackers holler 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

[Houdini:]
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 nothing to prove
Say he a shooter and ain't even shoot
You super cap, you ain't telling 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 nothing to prove (Oh)
Say he a shooter and he ain't even shoot
You super cap, you ain't telling the truth (Oh)
.223 and FN make a nigga go, "Poof"