Swerv
[Intro: Jim Jones]
You gotta catch that beat
You know, the beat, you gotta come
You gotta merge with that shit
You gotta merge with that shit, like we been takin'—
[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
Trips to the Chi' way before they put the 'Raq in it (Let's talk about it)
That ball in my hand way before I put a pack in it
It was a good neighborhood way before they put the crack in it (I remember)
Now I'm at dice games, in the bank, got like a hundred stacks in it, n***a
There's only the truth that I can spit (Facts)
So may the Lord strike me down if there was a coupe that I ain't whip (Amen)
Let's talk about it (Uh-huh)
'Causе yeah, we do the jеts too (Uh-huh)
Got my team jumpin' on them shits just like the Jets do (Trust that)
Lookin' at NuttSO like these n***as ain't rappin' right (Uh-uh)
Talk about movies, but I swear these n***as ain't actin' right
If my n***as do a movie then these n***as ain't comin' back to life
I drop a bag on your head then that includes the whole taxing price (What's the tab, n***a?)
They catch a body, then I'ma catch a flight (Gone, n***a)
That's what I'm on, yo, that's the facts of life
These bitches start like Tubi with them BBL booties
I started with a whole pie then we would sell 'em as cuties (Break that down)
We outside, n***a, what the fuck we need a office for? (We need a office for)
We could do the yachts too, we could dock them shits off the shore (We can do all that shit)
I could tell you the price ain't the same thing what it cost before (I'm getting money)
And I'm still pourin' champagne for all my n***as that I lost at war
[Interlude: G Herbo]
Swerve
Ayy, Capo, what up?
Let's get it
You a street n***a, I'm a street n***a too, just like you
Uh, yeah
[Verse 2: G Herbo]
Made n***as get off they asses, I'm who taught 'em how to trap
Turn a quarter to a half, then switch to grass, got tired of crack (Know that)
If it's static, put on all black masks, go handle that (Uh-huh)
If you savage, give him a face shot, don't kill him behind his back (Nah)
It's a lot of n***as sayin' slick shit behind my back (Uh-huh)
They don't say much when we face up, I don't think 'bout 'em, n***as ain't tough
No handshakes, n***as can't touch me, I don't fake kick it, get away from me
Barely havin' conversations if the topic ain't money
This time might go 'Rari truck, get a new Urus, spend eight hundred
Go hard every day for all them lonely nights I ain't had nothing
Now I'm doing my thing, I'm on top of the food chain (Yeah)
Might be best get you a lane
AR-15 get to sprayin' like the shooter got mood swings, uh
You gotta catch that beat
You know, the beat, you gotta come
You gotta merge with that shit
You gotta merge with that shit, like we been takin'—
[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
Trips to the Chi' way before they put the 'Raq in it (Let's talk about it)
That ball in my hand way before I put a pack in it
It was a good neighborhood way before they put the crack in it (I remember)
Now I'm at dice games, in the bank, got like a hundred stacks in it, n***a
There's only the truth that I can spit (Facts)
So may the Lord strike me down if there was a coupe that I ain't whip (Amen)
Let's talk about it (Uh-huh)
'Causе yeah, we do the jеts too (Uh-huh)
Got my team jumpin' on them shits just like the Jets do (Trust that)
Lookin' at NuttSO like these n***as ain't rappin' right (Uh-uh)
Talk about movies, but I swear these n***as ain't actin' right
If my n***as do a movie then these n***as ain't comin' back to life
I drop a bag on your head then that includes the whole taxing price (What's the tab, n***a?)
They catch a body, then I'ma catch a flight (Gone, n***a)
That's what I'm on, yo, that's the facts of life
These bitches start like Tubi with them BBL booties
I started with a whole pie then we would sell 'em as cuties (Break that down)
We outside, n***a, what the fuck we need a office for? (We need a office for)
We could do the yachts too, we could dock them shits off the shore (We can do all that shit)
I could tell you the price ain't the same thing what it cost before (I'm getting money)
And I'm still pourin' champagne for all my n***as that I lost at war
[Interlude: G Herbo]
Swerve
Ayy, Capo, what up?
Let's get it
You a street n***a, I'm a street n***a too, just like you
Uh, yeah
[Verse 2: G Herbo]
Made n***as get off they asses, I'm who taught 'em how to trap
Turn a quarter to a half, then switch to grass, got tired of crack (Know that)
If it's static, put on all black masks, go handle that (Uh-huh)
If you savage, give him a face shot, don't kill him behind his back (Nah)
It's a lot of n***as sayin' slick shit behind my back (Uh-huh)
They don't say much when we face up, I don't think 'bout 'em, n***as ain't tough
No handshakes, n***as can't touch me, I don't fake kick it, get away from me
Barely havin' conversations if the topic ain't money
This time might go 'Rari truck, get a new Urus, spend eight hundred
Go hard every day for all them lonely nights I ain't had nothing
Now I'm doing my thing, I'm on top of the food chain (Yeah)
Might be best get you a lane
AR-15 get to sprayin' like the shooter got mood swings, uh