Target Practice
Target Practice

38 Spesh, Harry Fraud, Jim Jones - Target Practice Lyrics

3

Target Practice Lyrics

You see I stay away from lames that speak to entertain
When I came out the womb, my feet was in the game
Can't complain cause far as the streets, I did my thing
I see shit out of my reach, and then I aim
You think shit sweet, I peeped your little game
A lot of niggas that I let eat, that went in vain
You made 500 a week, to sit and hang
No you want to hate on me, that shit is pain
I caught a case from riding around with the strap
My lawyer said this time that I gotta relax
Left my man a plug, and some product to match
You should have a million dollars around the time I get back
And he did it 900 thou, to be specific
Family Guy, niggas living like Peter Griffin
He ain't gonna spend it on weed and bitches
Kept the Police out his business, not even a speeding ticket
Spent cream on a defense team
If I hit you, you would sue, like Mitch Green
Niggas got rich off dealing with sick fiends
Back then, now I'm in a position to fix things
From rapping, you cats ain't active
You halfway trapping
My man used to think that the crack game is the fastest
But weed make crack look average
Green leaf changes belief, like a black St. Patrick
Huh, attack fake rappers, you know we come to your show wearing backstage passes
Nigga I'm gonna make sure your last days tragic
The way these shells fall, hope you pack rain jackets, nigga

Saucy in my blunt got me getting litty
Bring the coupes out, Ima give em titties (topless)
Niggas said the ballin like they in the biddies
I'm usually in the Foreign when I'm in the Bitty
I use a Passport for my registration
I'm way more political than legislation
Everybody rock a mask like they hella Jason
Put your body on the floor, and leave your head adjacent
My young niggas, they be praying to the scam Gods
When I was young I was dribbling like Shammgod
Up and down the 95 with those grams of hard
I got a hundred on my wrist, thats my hand to God
This water on my neck, like the Levee broke
We was going to the Heights to get the better coke
I got a bitch who don't gag, and she don't never choke
I got stars in my ceiling, with no telescopes
1,2 1,2 can you hear me out there?

Writer(s): Joseph Guillermo II Jones, Justin Harrell, Rory William Quigley
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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