Prompt / Lyrics
[Chorus] I got that wild style always been a foul child my guns go boom-boom yo gun go pow-pow Body count thirty-five boy, don’t make it thirty-six You ain’t built for this you ain’t built for this (nah) [Verse 1] Came up in halls where the lockers had rust on ’em Judge knew my name way before the cap and gown moment Mama said pray I was loading up, roaming Heart like winter eyes stayed frozen Dice on the floor whole rent on one toss Friends in the dirt now names that I don’t cross Talk tough, boy? that’s a bad little hobby We turn threats into chalk turn chalk into bodies [Chorus] I got that wild style always been a foul child my guns go boom-boom yo gun go pow-pow Body count thirty-five boy, don’t make it thirty-six You ain’t built for this you ain’t built for this (yeah) [Verse 2] Mask on tight but the city still know me Posted on the corner turn that block to a trophy You just type in caps all cap, that’s your lane We wrote whole stories in shell cases and spray paint Heart black, beat fast when the door creak Eyes red, sleep light I ain’t slept all week You wanna test? Better study my past first ’Cause every wrong move put a name on my last shirt [Chorus] I got that wild style always been a foul child my guns go boom-boom yo gun go pow-pow Body count thirty-five boy, don’t make it thirty-six You ain’t built for this you ain’t built for this (uh) Body count thirty-five boy, don’t make it thirty-six Step wrong one time you get scratched off the list
Tags
rap, Gritty East Coast hip-hop with swung drums and thick bass, male vocals. Verse rides close-mic and conversational over a sparse loop, then chorus opens with stacked gang vocals and a rough, shouted hook. Occasional vinyl crackle and distant siren textures; subtle pitch-shifted ad-libs punctuate punchlines. Final chorus pushes the energy with extra harmonies and a rising filter sweep on the sample., hip hop
Duration
1:29
Instrumental
No
Created
3/27/2026