Go Too Hard

[Intro]
(Yeeeah!)
Crank it up
Turn it up
Turn it up again (what!)
[Chorus]
We go too hard, to the ceilin’ (to the ceilin’)
Whole squad lit, we ain’t chillin’ (we ain’t chillin’)
Got the pounds, got the kilos, we dealin’
Got the bottles up high, how you feelin’? (how you feelin’?)
We go too hard, to the ceilin’ (to the ceilin’)
Whole block jump, keep it realin’
From the trap to the club, we winnin’
Got the bottles up high, how you feelin’? (okay!)
[Verse 1]
Came up off late-night flips
White tee, gold on lips
Phone jump, three plays, no skips
Whole life one long risk
Hustle in the rain, in the heat
Same shoes, same street, same beef
Turn crumbs to a feast, then feast
Turn nothin’ to a king back seat
I remember ramen, same pot, three spoons
Now it’s five-star, big room, big views
Back then, had to stash in my shoes
Now they line up, pray they get blues
Talk big work, boy, that’s my past
Still got scars from movin’ that fast
Mind on cash, never look back
Whole team eat when I stack that stack (let’s go!)
[Chorus]
We go too hard, to the ceilin’ (to the ceilin’)
Whole squad lit, we ain’t chillin’ (we ain’t chillin’)
Got the pounds, got the kilos, we dealin’
Got the bottles up high, how you feelin’? (how you feelin’?)
We go too hard, to the ceilin’ (to the ceilin’)
Whole block jump, keep it realin’
From the trap to the club, we winnin’
Got the bottles up high, how you feelin’? (okay!)
[Verse 2]
From Bangkok lanes to the bay
Same grind, just a whole new day
Same hunger in the eyes, same play
Get paid, put the whole fam away
Street talk, I don’t do much cappin’
Turn one into two, that’s magic
Turn two into ten, that’s habit
I was built for the smoke, that static
Lil homies wanna learn my math
Show love, but I tell ‘em ‘bout the path
‘Bout late nights, close calls, close caskets
‘Bout prayin’ that the law don’t catch it
Now it’s flights, big ice on the wrist
Still remember that first lil’ lick
Still remember when the bags got flipped
Had to move quick, had to move slick (what!)
[Chorus]
We go too hard, to the ceilin’ (to the ceilin’)
Whole squad lit, we ain’t chillin’ (we ain’t chillin’)
Got the pounds, got the kilos, we dealin’
Got the bottles up high, how you feelin’? (how you feelin’?)
We go too hard, to the ceilin’ (to the ceilin’)
Whole block jump, keep it realin’
From the trap to the club, we winnin’
Got the bottles up high, how you feelin’? (yeah!)

rap, Aggressive trap club beat with heavy 808s and stuttering hi-hats, male vocals drenched in hype ad-libs. Short, barked phrases in the verses, call-and-response chant for the hook. Dark synth brass and plucked bells in the melody, with crowd vocals stacking the chorus to feel like a packed club going crazy., hip hop