Target lyrics

[Intro: sgpwes]
Yeah (Ooh)
Yeah, yeah
(Grr, fah)
Yeah (Grr, fah)
(Amir)

[Verse 1: sgpwes]
He talkin' stupid, we find his location
I'm in the Hellcat, and I'm finna race it
I get the muh'f*ckin' pass from the station
I got Margiela, I keep me a Mason
I cannot f*ck wit' that ho 'cause she basic
My b*tch, she bad and I think she got braces
I spent a band on my Louis V bracelet
I see the muh'f*ckin' pack, then I take it
Five hundred shoes, they don't got no laces, huh
I spent a band on my shoes
Too many b*tches, I can't even choose
I kill that n*gga, I don't leave a clue
Walk out the bank and I count up my blues
Two twin b*tches, they come in two's
b*tch, I go up, how can I lose?
I'm rich as f*ck, but I don't pay my dues
b*tch I go zoom in that 'Cat
My b*tch, she bad and she black
Look at my toolie, go blatt (Blatt)
Yo' homie get hit with the Gat
b*tch, I just want a lil' rack
Bullets gon' knock off his hat
I'm finna f*ck on yo' daughter
Yo' b*tch be callin' me father
Girl, I'll turn to a stalker
I need me a milli, I'm not finna bargain
I don't do the drugs 'cause they make me retarded
Bullet hit him, now it's blood on the carpet
Said, "We up next", boy, we just getting started
Thirteen bullets, they callin' me Harden
Boy, yo' sh*t suck, go in the garbage
I'm in Met Gala, he shoppin' in Target
[Verse 2: Onlybino!]
He talk on gang then that boy is a target
That is lil' Bino, that boy is a artist
Double O Coupe when I pull out of parking
Choppa on me, know that ho get to sparkin'
Yeah, these lil' n*ggas, they got all the clout, but I'm the lil' n*gga that's going the farthest
'Cause you know lil' Bino really a artist
Painted her face and I shot in her garments
Okay, these bullets, these bullets, they knock off his fitted
Money on Shaq while that boy sh*t a midget
Young n*gga goated, I got me a ticket, I look at yo' hoe, then I'm getting her digits
I'm in the trap, uh, whippin'
These n*ggas cap on the life that I'm livin'
These n*ggas broke, I ain't been in a minute
Six figure n*gga, I ain't even finished
Get to the bag, uh, let's go
Freaky lil' ho and she's takin my soul
Hop out the Scat to hop in a Ghost
Put it in drive then I'm swervin' it home
I was just broke, now my diamonds, they glow
Going up fast and that boy movin' slow
I was just bored, I gave music a go
Now I just do this sh*t like I'm a pro
Get to the racks
Get to the racks
Get to the racks
Get to the racks
Young n*gga ballin', I get to the rack
He talkin' down, put that boy in a pack
Came from the ground, b*tch, I came from the mats
Now they see Bino just ballin' in Saks
My pockets fat and her n*gga sh*t flat
Callin' me trash, that could never be facts, ayy
Go, huh
Go, huh
Go, huh
Go, huh
Go, huh
Go, huh
Young n*gga just ballin' on his own, huh
Go, huh
Go, huh
Go, huh
Go
Go
I'm a young n*gga just ballin' on his own