lirik lagu yung nunez - backstreets pressure
[intro]
this b~tch won’t leave me alone, cryin’ ’bout rent and her nails
told that ho, “get off my d~ck, i’m tryna bust this sale”
all that talkin’ ’bout your brother—he got left in the field
phone don’t do no talkin’, we do walk~ups with that steel
this glock don’t stutter, it sing like meek on a drill
lil vonn beatz in this b~tch—yeah, you know this sh~t real
[chorus]
lately, i been deep up in my zone
ops be tryna reach, i put this 30 to they dome
ain’t no love left, i been heartless to the bone
f~ck a therapist, i vent with this chrome
they keep talkin’ ‘bout the bodies—ain’t no proof
b~tch, it’s pressure on the backstreets, that’s the truth
and thеy know it’s nunez steppin’ in the booth
wholе hood behind me, i got nothin’ left to lose
[verse 1]
lost my cousin to some dumb sh~t
shot him in the back, now we ridin’ with that drum stick
you ain’t never slid, you just cap, lil’ punk b~tch
catch you out in traffic, bet this fn make your lung split
mama said i need some peace—i said i need a l!ck
‘cause this .40 in my lap been doin’ magic tricks
turn a opp into a ghost, now he casper, b~tch
catch his partner lackin’ next, we gon’ match the sh~t
all my dawgs bark loud, we don’t do the leash
whole clique full of shooters, we don’t do the beef
we just do the walkdowns, leave a mess in the streets
you can’t claim drill sh~t ‘til you bloodstain your sneaks
[chorus]
lately, i been deep up in my zone
ops be tryna reach, i put this 30 to they dome
ain’t no love left, i been heartless to the bone
f~ck a therapist, i vent with this chrome
they keep talkin’ ‘bout the bodies—ain’t no proof
b~tch, it’s pressure on the backstreets, that’s the truth
and they know it’s nunez steppin’ in the booth
whole hood behind me, i got nothin’ left to lose
[verse 2]
f~ck them instagram lives, we be lurkin’ in silence
hop out the whip and just start wildin’ with violence
lil drex got the switchy, that b~tch spittin’ like it’s cryin’
tayvius brought the draco, it be roarin’ like a lion
grew up on the block where we don’t pray, we load mags
caught that boy slippin’, he got zipped in his jag
and i still tote the same stick from my last case
judge look me in my eyes—i said, “b~tch, kiss my ass”
ain’t no love for a opp or a cop, we don’t talk
we just stalk, then we chalk who we caught in the dark
had to toss the pole twice, feds creepin’ on the yard
now i’m ridin’ with this bl!ck and a trunk full of shards
it’s a cold world, but i’m still hot as f~ck
got yo b~tch suckin’ d~ck while i’m loadin’ this pump
she don’t love me, she just know i got racks in the trunk
she said her baby daddy lame—well, i might get him slumped
no emotion, just war in my section
all my opps stretchin’, this glock my protection
i’m the realest out my city, that’s no flexin’
pressure on the backstreets, b~tch, that’s my confession
[chorus]
lately, i been deep up in my zone
ops be tryna reach, i put this 30 to they dome
ain’t no love left, i been heartless to the bone
f~ck a therapist, i vent with this chrome
they keep talkin’ ‘bout the bodies—ain’t no proof
b~tch, it’s pressure on the backstreets, that’s the truth
and they know it’s nunez steppin’ in the booth
whole hood behind me, i got nothin’ left to lose
[outro]
(lil vonn beatz, you snapped on this motherf~cker)
yung nunez in this b~tch—don’t get caught lackin’, p~ssy
backstreets pressure, we really steppin’
rest in peace my dawgs…
you know how we comin’
pressure on the backstreets—forever
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