SPLAT SPLAT (DEMO) ft. Mr. FYG Lyrics

Tell me you not still keeping score

(GO)

We don't go tit for tat

(GO)

If he playing with a torch

Promise we got' bring the ice

If we he playin' with a fork

Promise we gon' bring the knife

You lil niggas still keepin' score

We don't go tit for tat bout stripes

They told the kid to bring some noise

Baby I brought all the hype

Fyg say pour a line

But Jayfro don't you spill the sprite

If the door latched closed then we kicking it open

Minimum we gon' try

Best believe I'm down to crunch

But baby I can't stay the night

Tryna have income in all 50 states

Like let the revenue pay the lights

Been a hustler since shorties

Remember in middle school

I was selling t bags as loud

Now that we bloomed as individuals

I flex with a cap and gown

MajorFYG runnin' the town

With the sound

But we aim for the globe

Team so solid

We look like Giannas, Shaq, magic, and Moses Malone

Where I'm from

Flahhh, Splatt

Spaghetti get knocked straight out ya dome

That's why I move divine timing

Told my og i'm making it home

For all my people dead and gone

You living through me when I'm writing these songs

I ain't never care bout a fork in the road

I brought a knife

And made my own

Saucy

I need my shit like dijon mustard

Bossy

Baby I been that nigga since we was on custard

Hardly

These niggas fucking with me

That's not a problem

Arby's

You a bum lil boy so you categorized at the bottom

Never gave a fuck 'bout a nigga who hot

Cause these clamps gon' make him froze

Growing Up I never had opps

Only obstacle

I crossed off fasho

On the block back our old days

Now if we pop out

We in that mode

If that boy think he on fire

Pour gasoline

Watch him explode

If he playing with a torch

Promise we turn him to ice

If he playin' with a fork

Promise we gon' bring the knife

You lil niggas still keepin' score

We don't go tit for tat bout stripes

They told the kid to bring some noise

Come on Baby

I brought all the hype

(YESSIRRRRRR)

This sound like alarm clock

Alerting you I'm next up

This sound like a bomb drop

Aint talking Hiroshima

Baby we some street sweepers

We clean blocks all season

I done told you ass a hunnid times

I still ain't change my reason

New me a jawn from the Philippines

Finna go get her a visa

My niggas like some centipedes

How they came up from the trenches

I like my lil baby dolled up

I'm talking fresh like easter

Baby girl I told you a hundred times

Still ain't change my reason

Mob ties in my family ties

We go to war like Bautista

We was fucked up a lot of times

We still never need fema

I done played with a lot of dimes

I juggle coins chuckle cheeses

I juggle coins chuckie cheeses

We shed tears for the life we living

Like fuck a bad decisions

We ain't even know our true potential

Now we ball out Like Quidditch

Baby I ain't JK when I say she Rollin

Lisa Simpson

I ain't talk BART

But I'm in Cali rockin' yellow denim

I don't fuck w carts

OG kush smoker

I like crushing skittles

I don't even know her name

But I think it's piper

How she pick my pickle

From a jungle with shooters and thieves

I learned to navigate the game when I was little

And I'm drew breeze

Cause I play this to a T

And I play my position

And I got the rock on lock

Like I'm Chris Paul

So you can't knock my pivot

Active on defense

Jose Alvarado

Hope you don't think this no scrimminage

Supply for the team

If it ain't for the whole load

I ain't fucking with it

Baby Girl I'm like that

In real life

This sound like alarm clock

Alerting you I'm next up

This sound like a bomb drop

Aint talking Hiroshima

Baby we some street sweepers

We clean blocks all season

I done told you ass a hunnid times

Still ain't change my reason

We shed tears for the life we living

Like fuck a bad decisions

We ain't even know our true potential

Now we ball out Like Quidditch

Baby I ain't JK when I say she rolling

Lisa Simpson

I ain't talk BART

But I'm in Cali rockin' yellow denim

Saucy

I need my shit like dijon mustard

Bossy

I been that nigga since we was on custard

Hardly

These niggas fucking with me, not a problem

Arby's

You a bum lil boy so u categorized at the bottom

Need me a jawn from the philippeans

Finna go get her a visa

My niggas like centipedes

How they came up from the trenches

I like my lil baby dolled up

I'm talking fresh like easter

Baby girl I love you but I'll lie if I say I need you