765 Songtext
von Kayps

Reebok Lows, put ′em on, big steppin' on ′em
Know my cousins 'round there keep a weapon on 'em
Tear it up, origami, we gon′ press up on ′em
765, Say she steppin', tell me where you from
Keep your chin tucked when I tell them lil′ niggas
Point a run, shit, I told 'em stay low
Keep cutters ′round here, fuck you talkin' ′bout a pole?
Scrap it up, grass fire, cuz, we gon' get it on
If we ain't runnin′ from a chain, then we runnin′ from the pole

Heard 'em talkin′, say the West ain't got a culture, what you mean?
Lil′ burner, but baby steppin' out it, I got that steez
This Black culture forever, recolonizin′ the scene
Claimin' gang shit, but nothin' as strong as my family


We got uno point fifty, I need hundreds printed with me
Know the mob out in the West, big talker, check the receipts
Black boy from the Northwest, you ain′t never seen a white folks
Criminalized culture, bitch, let me breathe
You on lame shit, out my way, bitch
I′ma walk until the PM, wish the weather on my grandfather payslip
Tie my laces, but I'm ′bout to make some changes

Give our land back, wouldn't that be amazin′?

Can't fight for shit when they say that we′re complainin'

As a youngin, I saw photos of my elders hangin'

Lil′ me thinkin′, "Why is Uncle levitatin'?"

Walkin′, rockin' Reebok Lows, put ′em on, big steppin'
′Round here, get it on, lil' bitch
From the 765, check 'em off my list
See my neighborhood tatted all up on my wrist
From the Northwest gutter, gon′ meet my fist
Big steppin′ 'round here, get it on, lil′ bitch
From the 765, check 'em off my list
See my neighborhood tatted all up on my wrist
From the Northwest gutter, gon′ meet my fist
This killin' real people, don′t call this no rebellion

Extreme future, every day is lookin' scarier
My cousin took his life, now my family gotta bury him


Try come over, but I promise they won't let ′em in
Tell ′em I stay calm and stay ready to
Talk my shit, I'ma stay hell petty
Tell the folks comin′ up they can go and kiss my derrière
Don't need my home bein′ another state of America

Bump, no way, kick 'em out, propane
Pourin′ on the fuckin' my plans, that's a old flame
Go way back, four seasons on a cold day
I′m straight up, I ain′t the type to go and throw shade
Before shit get active, bitch, I'ma throw skate
Not ′round here, it's gettin′ wicked, that's my fault tape
Get that redhead and that body, give ′em both fades
Pull up on 'em, Reebok Lows, put 'em on, big steppin′ on ′em
Know my cousins 'round there keep a weapon on ′em
Tear it up, origami, we gon' press up on ′em

765, Say she steppin', tell me where you from
Keep your chin tucked when I tell them lil′ niggas
Point a run, shit, I told 'em stay low
Keep cutters 'round here, fuck you talkin′ ′bout a pole?
Scrap it up, grass fire, cuz, we gon' get it on
If we ain′t runnin' from a chain, then we runnin′ from the pole

Big steppin' on ′em