In Your Face Songtext
von FiveFingersNoah

Aye, aye, aye (go-go)
Put my pinky in your face
Got a hundred for ′em, wait
Gotta smoke this fucking eighth
Got a hundred for my bae, aye

This the way I'm flowing, I′m tryna break it in
Got some bag work for these pussies tryna talk that shit
Hot from flag bearing, wave my crew 'til I fucking quit
KSC Betsy Ross, shout out FG, that's my other clique
And I toss the bag ′til you gon′ cash it
And I make sure everything good, match lit
Nash, twenty three assists, the way I do it
You been watching for a minute, when you gon' admit, yeah
You been sitting in the bleachers looking at the track now
You been living rough, guilt hooked up in yo′ back, ouch
I been so pretty in my house, I wear a blouse, wow
Tired of seriousness? Go ahead, take 'em to the chorus, out


Put my pinky in your face
Got a hundred for ′em, wait
Gotta smoke this fucking eighth
Got a hundred for my bae
Got a fund straight the from A
Where my dick go? Wait (where my dick go?)
Eating enchilada with a lot of Prada in my fucking safe

Bandit, twelve tracks, hell yeah, this my best work
So ahead for my age, they be shocked at the curve
Used to be a Sigilkore rapper, now I'm really heard
Underwater EQ′ing like Keef, back from the dead third
But I'm not dissing my past, it's really R.I.P. Axx
And to all these pussies dissing, I won′t bury the axe
Perhaps, you need to get past it, one whole chance the glass shoe fit
Mass gas and facts shit, riding out with a whole death grip (bah-bah)
Praying on my downfall, you gon′ lose first
They knew young Noah was meant to win when he pulled out hearse (errr)
I'ma keep on balling, Paul Wall grills on, impaling
You get shot just for stalling, grow a mustache like Stalin (listen)
Aye, and the whip Impala, drive a fucking odyssey
You can′t stop the bodies, you can't stop the piling
Aye, and you want a picture, but you gotta call up mister
And I caught you on your mission, call you up to twister


Put my pinky in your face
Got a hundred for ′em, wait
Gotta smoke this fucking eighth
Got a hundred for my bae
Got a fund straight the from A
Where my dick go? Wait (where my dick go?)
Eating enchilada with a lot of Prada in my fucking safe

(Bah, bah)
This the remix
Run the track, run it back
Run the track, run it back
Give me the rhythm, I got the flows
I don't fuck with lames, I don′t with yo
Rapping like a billy goat spitting everywhere
That's about how recording goes, so
If you see me in person, call my number, nine-four-zero
If you see me in person, call my number, nine-four-zero
(Bandit)