Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Goat , by - Snap CaponeRelease date: 30.04.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Goat |
| Press then eject, left with a sket |
| Audermars Roleys, wet the Patek |
| This gun is my trophy, excellent skeng |
| Up close and personal, spray it like it’s dench |
| Nigga I’m a gang banger, crack slanger, wife banger, bandana |
| My manor, chrome hammer, .44 oh mazza |
| Skrr in the old banger |
| No fork, cut the coke with a coat hanger |
| Two tone Roley, strap Jubilee |
| Snap Capone a killer, yeah it’s true indeed |
| Niggas want me dead, that ain’t new to me |
| All my niggas ready, let the war proceed |
| I had to hit her twice then I ditched that |
| This coke whiter than Mick Jag' |
| This whole brick came gift wrapped |
| I specialise in murders and kidnaps |
| Flying OT, G’s, packs and scores |
| Had to get that P now the tee says Dior |
| A nigga try and reach, imma turn him to a corpse |
| S-T, S-N, R-M, we are the G.O.A.T.'s |
| Flying OT, G’s, packs and scores |
| Had to get that P now the tee says Dior |
| A nigga try and reach, imma turn him to a corpse |
| S-T, S-N, R-M, we are the G.O.A.T.'s |
| I heard they wanna put me in a coffin |
| Rimz, S, me, three G’s like Golovkin |
| They killed my darg, I want revenge, I’m John Wick |
| I’ll shoot you on the spot and hit it top bins |
| Talented, I could’ve been a surgeon |
| I just put five bricks in a German |
| Doing drive-by's for recreational purposes |
| Get the drop, I’ll drop 'em like a Percocet |
| Slim ting, I flew her out to Turkey |
| With the BBL and now she curvy |
| I used to keep my burner in the bin shed |
| We ain’t squashing no beef until that kid’s dead |
| Pole hoes, more men than a minibus |
| Bad boy, Big and Puff |
| Capping, ain’t as real as us |
| O.T. bopping like NSG |
| Dopeboy trophy, rose gold Patek Phillippe |
| Flying OT, G’s, packs and scores |
| Had to get that P now the tee says Dior |
| A nigga try and reach, imma turn him to a corpse |
| S-T, S-N, R-M, we are the G.O.A.T.'s |
| Flying OT, G’s, packs and scores |
| Had to get that P now the tee says Dior |
| A nigga try and reach, imma turn him to a corpse |
| S-T, S-N, R-M, we are the G.O.A.T.'s |
| In that T-House all night and all day |
| I feel like Berna with this yay |
| I started with an eighth |
| Thirty-five for the white girl, twelve for the dirty |
| Stitching in my jeans, Michael Amiri |
| Counting new dough with the same chick I was broke with |
| L-shaped sofas, L.V. loafers |
| Three-hundred for the tee, just to say D&G |
| Thirty in the Z |
| I got it in this house, Ali G |
| They laughed when I pulled up on my moped |
| I missed the ninth sale cause I don’t come until road check |
| Tales of a kala, they say it’s bad karma |
| Gaucho sea bass fillets with my partner |
| I was broke and bummy till I started shotting dutty |
| Hand-to-hand sales, I was hitting 'em like Murray |
| You know hanging on the blow I was a lame |
| Until a buyer introduced me to the game |
| Flying OT, G’s, packs and scores |
| Had to get that P now the tee says Dior |
| A nigga try and reach, imma turn him to a corpse |
| S-T, S-N, R-M, we are the G.O.A.T.'s |
| Flying OT, G’s, packs and scores |
| Had to get that P now the tee says Dior |
| A nigga try and reach, imma turn him to a corpse |
| S-T, S-N, R-M, we are the G.O.A.T.'s |