Song: | Splat |
Singer: | G Herbo |
Music: | Southside, Shottie, Mtymusic |
Lyrics: | G Herbo, Southside, Shottie, Mtymusic |
Album: | Big Swerv (2024) |
Splat Lyrics
Yeah, we outside, never inside, man
Free the G Gilly, man, free the water, free molly, man, yah
Ayy (Didn’t want me to die)
Never, uh, (They didn’t want)
(Southside on the track, yeah) Ayy, never, ayy
Yeah
Yeah, bundling up stacks
I know n!gga want me dead, I’m still living with my strap
Made my first check and I ain’t cash it, I was still tryna clap
I’m out my deal, and I make mils off sh!t got nothing to do with rap
You behind the wheel and got your steel, pu$y, what you gon’ do with that?
I’m with Big Opp and Drench, baby Drench gon’ blitz if one of us snap
A finger, wet ’em water, Aquafina
Hollows popping out the Nina
We don’t give no f**k about none of that
Heat getting whacked, he linger
The drum, beam, ain’t none of it come with that
He modified his Nina, switch on the back go
We make a rapper singer, we ain’t got no mask either
Double back, he’s seen us
Everything I rap, I mean it
Look, I just flew from Atlanta with Sizzle, free Slat and I don’t even gotta go back
On cap, it’s facts
I f**ked that hoe in Atlanta, like I f**ked every hoe in the ‘Raq
Yeah, you know it’s me, Big Herbie G
The ghost, the phantom, the lack is black
Can’t go to sleep till my walls like your teeth with plaques and plaques and plaques
My broski died, so every time they lack, splat, splat, splat
I faced a fifth of Casamig’, just trying to grieve and smack the track
That little b!tch was being stiff, I told her, “You ain’t got to act”
She straightened up, I bend her over, f**ked around, and cracked her back
Humble beast that still me, but I’m the chosen one at that
Hot n!gga, yes, indeed, but I’m the coldest where ever I’m at
I got that working hard, you n!gga lazy, y’all just wanted that
You n!gga remind me of Tom Brady, never wanted a sack
Yellow n!gga, but I’m whippin’ some sh!t that’s matte black (Swerv)
Don’t ask me what’s the name, this b!tch out your tax bracket (Lil’ n!gga)
So many opps got clipped, you think we doing black magic
Little bro got so many hats, I’m about to buy him a hat rack (Aye)
I’ve been racing for quite a while, now I’m on my last lap
I can’t wait to wake up and call the label and tell ’em I’m in the black
Where I’m from that zone was red, they want me dead, they seen black
I stay in the black, I beat the streets, I spent ten racks on a black jacket
Say you know me, if you find a n!gga a hoe me, I’ll stop rapping
Stay with the heat, my shooter’s elite, we lethal pu$y, so stop bappin’
Before the bread came, we was clapping
When the bread came, kept trapping
Lost cap, we started capping
After that, we don’t know what happened
My broski died, so every time they lack, splat, splat, splat
I faced a fifth of Casamig’, just trying to grieve and smack the track
That little b!tch was being stiff, I told her, “You ain’t got to act”
She straightened up, I bend her over, f**ked around, and cracked her back
Read the f**kin’ comments
Y’all talkin’ ’bout it’s “Just G Herbo”
Just G Her-? b!tch, it’s Herbo, what the f**k y’all talkin’ ’bout?
Talkin’ ’bout Yosohn daddy?
It’s high [?] on foenem grave (Southside on the track, yeah)