Target Lyrics – Onlybino!
Singer: Onlybino!
Title: Target
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah
(Amir)
He talkin’ stupid, we find his location
I’m in a Hellcat and I’m finna race it
I get the muhf**kin’ pa** from the station
I got Margiela, I keep me a Mason
I cannot f**k wit’ that hoe ’cause she basic
My b*t*h she bad and I think she got braces
I spent a band on my Louis V bracelet
I see the muhf**kin’ pack then I take it
Five hundred shoes, they don’t got no laces
I spent a band on my shoes
Too many b*t*hes, 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 b*t*hes they come in two’s
B*t*h I go up how can I lose
I’m rich as f**k but I don’t pay my dues
B*t*h I go zoom in that ‘cat
My b*t*h she bad and she black
Look at my toolie go blatt
Yo’ homie get hit with the Gat
B*t*h I just want a lil’ rack
Bullets gon’ knock off his hat
I’m finna f**k on yo’ daughter
Yo’ b*t*h be callin’ me father
You gonna turn to a stalker
I need me a milli, I’m not finna bargain
I don’t do the drugs ‘case 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’ sh*t suck, go in the garbage
I’m in Met Gala, he shoppin’ in Target
He talk on gang then that boy is a target
That boy lil’ Bino that boy is a artist
Double O Coupe when I pull out the parking
Choppa on me, know that hoe 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 an 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 sh*t 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, whippin’
These n***as cap on the life that I’m livin’
These n***as broke, it ain’t been in a minute
Six figure n***a, I ain’t even finished
Get to the bag, let’s go
Freaky lil’ hoe and she 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 sh*t 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, b*t*h I came from the mats
Now they see Bino, just ballin’ in Saks
My pockets fat and her n***a sh*t flat
Callin’ me trash that could never be facts
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
Find more lyrics at lyrics.jspinyin.net
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Target – English Translation
Ya ya ya
Ya
(Amir)
He talkin’ stupid, we find his location
I’m in a Hellcat and I’m finna race it
I get the muhf**kin’ pa** from the station
I got Margiela, I keep me a Mason
I cannot f**k wit’ that hoe ’cause she basic
My b*t*h she bad and I think she got braces
I spent a band on my Louis V bracelet
I see the muhf**kin’ pack then I take it
Five hundred shoes, they don’t got no laces
I spent a band on my shoes
Too many b*t*hes, 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 b*t*hes they come in two’s
B*t*h I go up how can I lose
I’m rich as f**k but I don’t pay my dues
B*t*h I go zoom in that ‘cat
My b*t*h she bad and she black
Look at my toolie go blatt
Yo’ homie get hit with the Gat
B*t*h I just want a lil’ rack
Bullets gon’ knock off his hat
I’m finna f**k on yo’ daughter
Yo’ b*t*h be callin’ me father
You gonna turn to a stalker
I need me a milli, I’m not finna bargain
I don’t do the drugs ‘case 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’ sh*t suck, go in the garbage
I’m in Met Gala, he shoppin’ in Target
He talk on gang then that boy is a target
That boy lil’ Bino that boy is a artist
Double O Coupe when I pull out the parking
Choppa on me, know that hoe 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 an 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 sh*t 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, whippin’
These n***as cap on the life that I’m livin’
These n***as broke, it ain’t been in a minute
Six figure n***a, I ain’t even finished
Get to the bag, let’s go
Freaky lil’ hoe and she 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 sh*t 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, b*t*h I came from the mats
Now they see Bino, just ballin’ in Saks
My pockets fat and her n***a sh*t flat
Callin’ me trash that could never be facts
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)
Pergi
Pergi
I’m a young n***a just ballin’ on his own
Find more lyrics at lyrics.jspinyin.net
Lyrics Onlybino! – Target
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