Hit-Boy
Tony Fontana
[Chorus: Hit Boy]
Dipping down the back streets
Running through these bands like a track meet, yeah
I think I want my trap back
Couldn’t tell you all the places I done trapped at, yeah
Dipping down the back streets
Running through these bands like a track meet, yeah
I think I want my trap back
Made my first million and I ain’t know how to act

[Verse 1: Hit Boy]
In the Aston getting head without asking
I’m too much n***a Rest In Peace to Ashton
220 on the dash I bet you can’t catch me
Band leave the banding up Young Dizzy Gillespie
Jazzy with my waist
Free Katana and champagne
I done showed the most love
These n***as ain’t no good
They talking big but it don’t mean nothing
I’m just at the crib with your hoe mean mugging
Yeah I’m in her face
Then she making faces
Yeah I’m in her face
Then she making faces
Put my chain on her titties get the picture taken
6 AM back in the street to collect the payment, yeah
Fuck a GPS, I just take the cash route
Tony Fontana n***a they call me that now
Stay with bag like I’m taking trash out, yeah
Trapping trapping trapping trapping out of the glass house, yeah
[Chorus: Hit Boy]
Dipping down the back streets
Running through bands like a track meet, yeah
I think I want my trap back
Couldn’t tell you all the places I done trapped at
Dipping down the back streets
Running through bands like a track meet, yeah
I think I want my trap back
Made my first million and I ain’t know how to act

[Interlude: Dom Kennedy]
They gon' talk about you anyway, fuck em’

[Verse 2: Dom Kennedy]
The Colosseum on my display
When I was flyer than these n***as in tenth grade, yeah
Up at Dulenz with the big plates
With no publicist, paid for the double RL I be covered in
Jazzy with my waist
Straight tequila with champagne
And I done showed the most love
These n***as ain’t no good
They talking money but I don’t see nothing
We be at the crib no phones no nothing
Either getting faced (true)
Or I’m counting faces
While I’m bumping Face (true)
Don’t get me mistaken
Official Westside n***a, get your picture taken
Up at Serving Spoon early off that turkey bacon
Fuck the Hollywood, I’m too hood with it
Always been a standout never with the handouts
I think I want my trap back
Thirty shows, living out my backpack
[Chorus: Hit Boy]
Dipping down the back streets
Running through these bands like a track meet, yeah
I think I want my trap back
Couldn’t tell you all the places I done trapped at, yeah
Dipping down the back streets
Running through these bands like a track meet, yeah
I think I want my trap back
Made my first million and I ain’t know how to act

[Outro: Hit Boy]
Yeah
Dipping in the back streets
Yeah
I think I want my trap back