H.P.I.C.

Album cover art for "H.P.I.C." by TANBOYS & Eto & Bodega Bamz

TANBOYS & Eto & Bodega Bamz - Rap

H.P.I.C.

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Lyrics

[Hook: Bodega Bamz] I'm the H.P.I.C; Head Papi In Charge Alejandro Sosa, Pablo Escobar Fiction and facts, plastic or Saran wraps Real life shit, talking 'bout y'all I'm the H.P.I.C: Head Papi In Charge Alejandro Sosa, Pablo Escobar Fiction and facts, plastic or Saran wraps Real life shit, talking 'bout y'all [Verse 1: Bodega Bamz] Finger fucking the bitches of all these famous rap stars Who cares about money they put my name next to yours I don't wanna make friends, just making ends with the bars I'm tired of hearing the same old fucking song What happened to thugs? It's like there's only room for love Everybody is cool, they all a part of one blood Well fuck Illuminati, fuck a Mason, all above This is rap, where's the competition? Just a bunch of hoes, catching feelings, quiet dissing I'm from where you say, "Fuck that nigga" And say his name in his face and pull the trigger Too many lawyers, not enough law breakers Everybody's vocal, bring the jawbreakers backstage Niggas copping pleas, get on Twitter with a different story My heart chilly like Palmer, that's what you get, shorty I'm not concerned with the riches they see 'cause every dog has his day, even vicious as me [Hook: Bodega Bamz] I'm the H.P.I.C; Head Papi In Charge Alejandro Sosa, Pablo Escobar Fiction and facts, plastic or Saran wraps Real life shit, talking 'bout y'all [Verse 2: Lil Eto] Feeling like Papi, Peluche Ponchalo, [?] Mantequilla, dulce Cocina, they know me now And I ain't make a hundred thousand yet But I'm still the H.P.I.C. on my set Money came and went, but I never left Like [?] on the goal with his bible in the fold Real niggas gotta stay blessed Couple hundred dollars I fumbled with and I made it work I huddle up with gualas, my youngin shit in his favorite shirt We'll gun 'em up for products, then stuff a spliff with a 8th of dirt Punching in the clock and then hugging strips 'cause he hates the work Tucking in the cops, with a rubber grip and it spray berserk If one of us get shot, pray it doesn't hit by the brain and smirk You groveling or not, all that fronting shit get you slayed and murked If you ain't alert, I won't change it first

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Credits

Writers
  • Bodega Bamz
  • Eto