

Prompt / Lyrics
[Intro] Black hoodie summer Mask on, heart cold (yeah) If you wasn’t in that struggle You don’t know [Verse 1] Shorty in the car, legs on the dashboard Tattoos peeking out, said she like her men with passports I was in the trap, ramen in the glass pot Now she wanna cuff, diamonds in the laptop Late night run, circle through the back block Tucked in the jeans, pressure in the stash spot Opps write threads, fingers on they screen tough See ’em in the flesh, all I ever see is speed bumps I don’t do talk, chest got receipts You was in the bleachers, I was bleeding on the seats Bro got booked, kept his mouth like a vault I’m the one they blame, but they know it’s they fault [Chorus] I got love for the ones that was hungry with me (with me) Still got smoke for the ones that was gunning for me (for me) I don’t chase opps, I just level the score Pray my mom never see what I did on that floor I got lust in the room, got a saint in my bed Devil in my ear, all this rage in my head I don’t chase opps, I just level the score Black hoodie summer, we ain’t running no more (no more) [Verse 2] Shorty say “choke me, treat me like you did the streets” Hands on her waist, same grip I had on heat She like when I’m toxic, fresh from a mission Sweat on my neck, gunpowder in my system Text from an opp girl, typing all reckless Said she wanna slide, tryna feel what respect is I just sent “bet,” dropped pin, then I left it Can’t trust love when the bed feel infectious Tension in the alley, sirens at the corner light Thinking ’bout my brother while I’m thumbing through this warmer night Every time I slide it just open up another scar Karma in the mirror, I been praying but it’s far [Chorus] I got love for the ones that was hungry with me (with me) Still got smoke for the ones that was gunning for me (for me) I don’t chase opps, I just level the score Pray my mom never see what I did on that floor I got lust in the room, got a saint in my bed Devil in my ear, all this rage in my head I don’t chase opps, I just level the score Black hoodie summer, we ain’t running no more (no more)
Tags
rap, Aggressive New York drill bounce with snarling 808s and sharp hi-hat rolls, male vocals. Verses tight and punchy with ad-libs tucked in the sides; hook explodes with stacked gang vocals and a simple, shout-along melody. Dark, minimal piano stabs and sliding bass under gritty, upfront rap.
2:31
No
3/7/2026