[Lyrics] Houdini – Here It Goes (Ft. Tory Lanez) Lyrics

Oh (uh), ohHello? (Hey)I can’t hear you, what’d you say?What’s up?Nothin’, I’m just recording right now, I’ma call you right backOkay, call me

They pout the racks on the count up in Cali’If she bring it back, I ain’t doin’ the dashYou put up a half, so just try to be mad at meI could survive, it’s just part of the planAnd you know I’m ballin’ like I’m at the MattamyIn front of the haters, in front of the fansShe giving me brain like my place an academyIf you need a tape then I need an advanceI been in the trap and the buckets keep calling meMan, I couldn’t lie, I might do it againWait, you remember them niggas that doubted me?I’m lookin’ right through ’em in Cartier lensNo round of applause, a nigga get clappedI’m thinkin’ of ways to get to the bagIf I’m in a race, I ain’t coming lastIf he in my way, then he gettin’ passedAnd she a lil’ ho, she fuck for the bagAnd cro on the road, he on your assWrist lookin’ like glassMore than a brick, more than a shaftBreakin’ the piece and I’m crushin’ the packUsed to wear the same beat everyday in the trapUsed to sell the same bean everyday for bagOn the North of the Jane where we keepin’ them straps

Here it goes, I wanna blowI wanna know what I’m meant to doHe took a L, that’s how life goesWe gonna win, ain’t tryna loseI’m in the field, I got nothin’ to proveSay he a shooter and ain’t even shootYou super cap, you ain’t tellin’ the truth.223 and FN make a nigga go, “Poof”Here it goes, I wanna blow (oh)I wanna know what I’m meant to doHe took a L, that’s how life goes (oh)We gonna win, ain’t tryna loseI’m in the field, I got nothin’ to prove (oh)Say he a shooter and he ain’t even shootYou super cap, you ain’t tellin’ the truth (oh).223 and FN make a nigga go, “Poof”

She wanna go, she wanna take it all over the globeI got them shooters movin’ like it’s Call of Duty‘Cause they goin’ crazy with the scopesI’m on the road, anybody fuckin’ with meYou know they gettin’ Peter Roe’dNiggas didn’t see me and HoudiniPoppin’ up on the bitches on the low‘Cause that was my brodie, you niggas dissin’ up the crodieYou know that I’m clutchin’ the 460K, seven, my bitch off the .40, I’m poppin’ with denimYou know that I got itI’m not a banker to none of my oppsBut I promise them niggas gon’ owe me depositsHe go to trip and then chill, check ’emSay he ain’t loaded but still check itHoudini my brother, my real bredrenI know he watching us stuntin’ from heavenAll of my watches, the bussin’ in heavenAin’t nobody finna run up, I’m steppin’Bitch, I’m in charge, a hundred and seven K largeYou now I gave tears to the reverandAll of the shootings and robberies we do inside of my hoodMy niggas need repentanceCan’t buy no Cuban bust down with no pendantsThey wanna give me twenty-two, the sentence, ayyI told them crackers holla back when they be soberI smoke so much dope that I still feel like I’m soberBalling in these bitches hole like a golferBach, bitch, big Rolls’ with the chauffeur, ah

Here it goes, I wanna blowI wanna know what I’m meant to doHe took a L, that’s how life goesWe gonna win, ain’t tryna loseI’m in the field, I got nothin’ to proveSay he a shooter and ain’t even shootYou super cap, you ain’t tellin’ the truth.223 and FN make a nigga go, “Poof”Here it goes, I wanna blow (oh)I wanna know what I’m meant to doHe took a L, that’s how life goes (oh)We gonna win, ain’t tryna loseI’m in the field, I got nothin’ to prove (oh)Say he a shooter and he ain’t even shootYou super cap, you ain’t tellin’ the truth (oh).223 and FN make a nigga go, “Poof”

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