Radar Lyrics by G Herbo
Fuck niggas, [?] put on the radar
Fuck niggas, they don’t get put on my radar
Fuck niggas, they don’t get put on my radar
Pull up, uh
You ever lived through a nightmare? (What up?)
Look death in a face, you might still
Somebody tryna kill you right there (Right there)
You can’t depend on nothin’ but Nike Airs (Go)
Have you ever been through there in the [?] with your mans strapped and he then shoot back?
Ridin’ through, the wheels go flat, do you know what can happen in the ‘Raq in the alley pissed black?
Glock 23 got a switch on a back (Rrr)
7.62 bullets spit out the MAC
AR suppress with the catcher attached (Shit a catch)
Empty that bitch out the Hellcat and snatch (Skrrt)
G Herbo, I been actin’ up on my ratchet
Lil’ Blood do the dash on the dispatch (Go)
I know a whole bunch of killers in traffic
Pull up on us, pussy, you matchin’ match (Huh)
Push to the right, it go brrt, brrt (Brrt)
Push to the left, it go grrt, grrt (Grrt, grrt)
I clear a smoke in my section (Facts)
I’m the one turned his ass to a pack
He tryin’ diss on the ‘net ’cause he rap
I’m tryin’ get shit took off the map (What?)
Yeah, no homo just like a blowjob
I’m tryna leave nigga’s head on his— (Yeah)
Leave nigga’s head on his lap
Button on the [?] trigger and that bitch tap (Tap)
Bullet holes gave him a gap
Took some of his flash off, he tryna adapt (Yeah)
Don’t give a fuck ’bout the audience
Like I’ma apply some shit, I’ll up and then clap
Go ask all of my partners, I bet you they vouch
You know all these niggas be bap (Know that)
Everybody savage, you better adapt
I don’t see no niggas trap (No niggas)
My young nigga finally went up a hat
Tell him ’bout the drill, what happened
Way before all of ’em [YNs?] crashed
Me, I was crashin’, crashin’
Smokin’ some opp, bein’ put out the ash
Now I’m cashy, cashy
Ridin’ the Lamb’ track, [?] in the ass (Uh)
Always rockin’ some fashion
Might buy her Marni, for my G still Aston
‘Cause life comin’ at me fast
Just copped a new coupe like I ain’t had the last one
I know how to fuck off a bag
White chandelier look like nothin’ but glass on me (Bling)
This time I’m [?] back (Yeah)
Pinky a hundred-K, it cost a Jag’ on me (Swerve)
And Chrome, don’t look at the tag
Louis, Celine, Bottega, just [plat?] on me (Just [plat?] on me)
I’m teachin’ you lil’ niggas swag
These streets, you in or you out to the side (What up?)
This shit ain’t no [?] or no gas
In this [?], niggas broke ’em and dap (They dap)
He gon’ beef with the gang and go hide (Uh)
Fuck your rank if it ain’t bonafide (Yeah)
It don’t count if it ain’t homicide (Huh)
Four on the whip up the score and divide it (Huh)
If I’m with him, he quick to go slide (Huh)
This .30 clip in my hand on my side (Facts)
You get killed with that bitch on your side (Get killed with that bitch on your side)
When I told ’em ain’t cake in my sleep, they surprised
Fuck around, make a M on the sunrise (Swerve)
Phew
Nigga
They want sunrise
This shit like
It is what it is, just like what it’s like and what it ain’t like, it ain’t gon’ get like