[Intro] Skrrt off Backblock sermons Whole block burnin' (Yeah) [Verse 1] Fast life, talk quick Half brick in a Jansport, walk slick Shorty got a pole in the stroller Lil man reach wrong, that’s a coffin in order Phone ring, that’s pressure Whole zip flip once, that’s extra I was in a trap house, air so thick You could write my name on the vent with your fist Big homie said "slide then" Mask down, same block we was raised in I was just a kid on the corner with a juice Now I’m countin’ ten bands where they lit the candles for the troops Heart cold, I ain’t blink since Mama say pray, but the safe need cents Hit the backdoor, hoodie up, no pics I ain’t tryna be a mural on the bricks [Chorus] I came from the backblocks, backblocks Where it’s gunshots, padlocks Whole hood on the same watch Tick tick, time stop when the van stop (skrrt) Fast rap, but the past still slow Every name on a tee, that’s a halo I don’t ever talk on a payphone I just spin, double back, then I lay low I came from the backblocks, backblocks Turn pain into payroll, mad props If you ain’t from here, better stay gone ‘Fore we turn your GPS into gravestones [Verse 2] Talk tough, get your jaw wired I done seen real kings turn small-time I done seen small fries turn big dogs Off one wrong lick in a brick loft Two phones, one ring for the re-up One ring, that’s court day, feet up Judge tryna read me my life like a script But they never seen the sirens on my side of the ditch Shorty thirteen with a big frame Whole clip hang like a keychain He ain’t tryna hoop, he just need aim Cuz the opps down the street know his big name I don’t ever sleep, just doze off In the back of a car with the roof off Thinkin’ ‘bout the homies that ain’t breathe right Now my tears dry hard like street ice [Chorus] I came from the backblocks, backblocks Where it’s gunshots, padlocks Whole hood on the same watch Tick tick, time stop when the van stop (yeah) Fast rap, but the past still slow Every name on a tee, that’s a halo I don’t ever talk on a payphone I just spin, double back, then I lay low I came from the backblocks, backblocks Turn pain into payroll, mad props If you ain’t from here, better stay gone ‘Fore we turn your GPS into gravestones [Bridge] Head down when the siren sing (woo) Bread up but I’m buyin’ wings Whole menu full of fallen kings This my life, not a viral thing [Chorus] I came from the backblocks, backblocks Where it’s gunshots, padlocks Whole hood on the same watch Tick tick, time stop when the van stop Fast rap, but the past still slow Every name on a tee, that’s a halo I don’t ever talk on a payphone I just spin, double back, then I lay low

rap, Dark Chicago drill-era beat, male vocals; sub-heavy bass and skittering trap hats, clipped snare cracks and eerie bell loop. Verses delivered in a breathless double-time flow, stabbed ad-libs panned wide. Hook opens with stacked gang vocals and a detuned synth line; 808 glides bend into the ends of phrases for extra menace. Overall mix aggressive and upfront, minimal reverb, vocal riding just above the drums., drill

Backblock Sermons