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Hit-Boy - Tony Fontana III (Instrumental) lyrics

Artist: Hit-Boy

album: SURF OR DROWN


Ay
Tony
Wow, wow
Fontana
Yeah
Yeah
(Hit-Boy) 808 rolling, pockets bulging, arms wide open
Ns can't hold em, keep it in motion
Love to my closest ones who love me at my lowest
Gangsta shit in my tape deck, running it back
Really this shit is a marathon but we ain't running no track
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I've been avoiding the noise, hopping in toys, moving poised
Nothing is forced, mixing the formula, wedding in Florida
We in domestic and we be foreigned up (and we be foreigned up)
Like we some foreigners (like we somе foreigners)
Overseas drеssed in fatigue in case these lil ns want war with us
On the I-10 we doing 120 we keeping it pushing got love for the clique
When ain't nobody lookin'
I kept this shit solid and look where it took me
Heated the stove now I'm finna cook
Funny thing is they already shook
Word to AK bitch I'm doing the look (shake down)
808 rolling, pockets bulging, arms wide open
Ns can't hold em, keep it in motion
Love to my closest ones who love me at my lowest
Gangsta shit in my tape deck, running it back
Really this shit is a marathon but we ain't running no track
We in the hills, way in the hills
I ain't got no chill we did it for real
Look how I pose in all the stills
All black hoodies like I'm doing drills (I'm doing drills)
All I'm rocking is Nipsey Blue
Ns be slimey and shifty too
Can't let 'em around me I'm simply through for real
Damn, too many years of this shit
Too many characters pulling a skit
Updated my style and then I updated the whip
God my witness I am to the inland what Drake is to TO
Brodie check in with his BM and PO
Dice game bet whatever on CeeLo
808 rolling, pockets bulging, arms wide open
Ns can't hold em, keep it in motion
Love to my closest ones who love me at my lowest
Gangsta shit in my tape deck, running it back
Really this shit is a marathon but we ain't running no track
(Curren$y) Gangsta shit in my tape deck, 88 'vette
We don't send threats, we just invest
Collect interest, I'm not impressed, easily
All of these hoes freaks to me
You had to trick to hit that bitch
I smashed and she bought me shit
It's fast and it cost hella chips
I bought that bitch
I'm still alive cause all my OG's taught me shit
Now my lil homies got heart and they smart
But I don't send them to crash out cause I'm a boss
The art of war, create more thinkers, we way more dangerous
Some ns hate us when they need to thank us
Emulate us but could never take us
I got in this shit to buy my ma a house
Somewhere along the line I end up famous
(Hit-Boy) 808 rolling, pockets bulging, arms wide open
Ns can't hold em, keep it in motion
Love to my closest ones who love me at my lowest
Gangsta shit in my tape deck, running it back
Really this shit is a marathon but we ain't running no track

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