Lyrics Backseat - Houdini , J Neat

Slatt, slatt
Gats on gats, oh, straps all in the backseat
(In the back, all up in the back seat)

Gats on gats
Got straps all up in the back seat, yo
Packs on packs so
Please, don't you harass me, no
Who that boy, though?
Not from no Degrassi though
Who that bitch?
Uh, movin' kinda nasty, oh

Gats on gats
Got straps all up in the back seat, yo
Packs on packs so
Please, don't you harass me, no
Who that boy, though?
Not from no Degrassi though
Who that bitch?
Uh, movin' kinda nasty, oh

Straps on straps
Got shooters in the backseat, oh
She a freak
She fuckin' to my tracks, oh oh
Free the guys
They told me heard me on the radio
So I can't slip, I keep my stick
My whole gang, they tryna score

And I talk fast, uh
All these niggas cappin', oh
Oh snap, 'cause they done leaked his photo
In the back and I got me a 44, oh
Make him giddy up
Like the horse up on his Polo

I'm on the road
I'm makin' plays just like it's Madden
MCM hold my hammer, I perc with fashion
These niggas don't want no smoke
They don't want no static
Fuck the doctor
We gon' send your homie to a casket

And fuck the doctor
We gon' send your homie to a casket
We ain't runnin' on no hardwood for a basket
She say that she want a savage, a little lavish
Run up on him, let him have it, fatal damage

(Oh) slatt, slatt (run up on him like oh)
(Shoutout my nigga J Neat, man)
Straps all in the backseat, yo
(In the back, all up in the back seat, yo)

Gats on gats
Got straps all up in the back seat, yo
Packs on packs so
Please, don't you harass me, no
Who that boy, though?
Not from no Degrassi though
Who that bitch?
Uh, movin' kinda nasty, oh

Gats on gats
Got straps all up in the back seat, yo
Packs on packs so
Please, don't you harass me, no
Who that boy, though?
Not from no Degrassi though
Who that bitch?
Uh, movin' kinda nasty, oh

Ay, ay, she kinda nasty, yo
Ay, ay, she a battri ho
Ayy, ayy, I'm in my bag, get some more
In my bag, get some more
Pop a tag, get some more

Ayy, baby, I be on the road
Baby, I be on the go
Baby, I be gettin' dough
Ay, she poppin' bottles, that's for sure
Poppin' xannies, that's for sure
Do the gang, you gotta go

Uh, ay, do the gang, you gotta go
In the trap, I let it snow
M Sav, he gon' let it blow
Free K Sav up on the road
Then we just rock another show
She give me top, but goin' low
Couldn't stop, she such a pro

Never disrespect the bros
Before I go and sell my soul
I'd rather sell a brick of dope
In the field, you tryna cope
In the field, we tryna score
Sniper gang, we totin' scopes
Ask her what's her horoscope
I'ma need you to play your role

(Play your role, play your role, play your role)
(I don't really need you, lil' ho)
(I just really need, though)
Slatt, slatt (I don't really need no more)
Slatt, slatt, slatt, slatt, wass

Gats on gats
Got straps all up in the back seat, yo
Packs on packs so
Please, don't you harass me, no
Who that boy, though?
Not from no Degrassi though
Who that bitch?
Uh, movin' kinda nasty, oh

Gats on gats
Got straps all up in the back seat, yo
Packs on packs so
Please, don't you harass me, no
Who that boy, though?
Not from no Degrassi though
Who that bitch?
Uh, movin' kinda nasty, oh

Kinda nasty, I'm in the back seat
Shouldn't love me...