Amir
Target
[Intro: sgpwes]
Yeah (Ooh)
Yeah, yeah
(Grr, fah)
Yeah (Grr, fah)
(Amir)

[Verse 1: sgpwes]
He talkin' stupid, we find his location
I'm in the Hellcat, and I'm finna race it
I get the muh'fuckin' pass from the station
I got Margiela, I keep me a Mason
I cannot fuck wit' that ho 'cause she basic
My bitch, she bad and I think she got braces
I spent a band on my Louis V bracelet
I see the muh'fuckin' pack, then I take it
Five hundred shoes, they don't got no laces, huh
I spent a band on my shoes
Too many bitches, I can't even choose
I kill that n***a, I don't leave a clue
Walk out the bank and I count up my blues
Two twin bitches, they come in two's
Bitch, I go up, how can I lose?
I'm rich as fuck, but I don't pay my dues
Bitch I go zoom in that 'Cat
My bitch, she bad and she black
Look at my toolie, go blatt (Blatt)
Yo' homie get hit with the Gat
Bitch, I just want a lil' rack
Bullets gon' knock off his hat
I'm finna fuck on yo' daughter
Yo' bitch be callin' me father
Girl, I'll turn to a stalker
I need me a milli, I'm not finna bargain
I don't do the drugs 'cause they make me retarded
Bullet hit him, now it's blood on the carpet
Said, "We up next", boy, we just getting started
Thirteen bullets, they callin' me Harden
Boy, yo' shit suck, go in the garbage
I'm in Met Gala, he shoppin' in Target
[Verse 2: Onlybino!]
He talk on gang then that boy is a target
That is lil' Bino, that boy is a artist
Double O Coupe when I pull out of parking
Choppa on me, know that ho get to sparkin'
Yeah, these lil' n***as, they got all the clout, but I'm the lil' n***a that's going the farthest
'Cause you know lil' Bino really a artist
Painted her face and I shot in her garments
Okay, these bullets, these bullets, they knock off his fitted
Money on Shaq while that boy shit a midget
Young n***a goated, I got me a ticket, I look at yo' hoe, then I'm getting her digits
I'm in the trap, uh, whippin'
These n***as cap on the life that I'm livin'
These n***as broke, I ain't been in a minute
Six figure n***a, I ain't even finished
Get to the bag, uh, let's go
Freaky lil' ho and she's takin my soul
Hop out the Scat to hop in a Ghost
Put it in drive then I'm swervin' it home
I was just broke, now my diamonds, they glow
Going up fast and that boy movin' slow
I was just bored, I gave music a go
Now I just do this shit like I'm a pro
Get to the racks
Get to the racks
Get to the racks
Get to the racks
Young n***a ballin', I get to the rack
He talkin' down, put that boy in a pack
Came from the ground, bitch, I came from the mats
Now they see Bino just ballin' in Saks
My pockets fat and her n***a shit flat
Callin' me trash, that could never be facts, ayy
Go, huh
Go, huh
Go, huh
Go, huh
Go, huh
Go, huh
Young n***a just ballin' on his own, huh
Go, huh
Go, huh
Go, huh
Go
Go
I'm a young n***a just ballin' on his own