Young Lungs – Tennis (prod. Cian P)

Greetings from Canada!

Lyrics:

They a lot of talk,
I dont talk, I get it
yeah you know I’m bout it
if it kill me imma let it
Running to the bag like I’m so athletic
Ive been up since 6 Making hits like tennis
Ive been on fire I just need my credit
Wanna go far need to change my setting
reaching for the stars hope my feet touch heaven
Havent had firsts bitch already want seconds

wanna be on top popping off like a four four
life been going fast I been trying not to go slow
I just hit the gas now I’m faded going slow-mo
You think gon’ pass but you tripping that’s a no go
Bitch you know I’m sick got me spitting like a sore throat
I was out in Europe they dun stopped me for some photos
I been really working I’m so tired of being broke though
I just want a couple chains my shawty like some rose gold

different substances for the mindset I want to take me out of
I’ve been overthinking ‘bout popping just like a semi auto
always breaking bread with my team, no dont wan’ do shit without them
imma leave some big shoes to Fill like they some Balenciagas

I just wanna go put a condo up on your wrist
Take her shopping might hit Toronto I’m with my bitch
Ive been taking flights different timezones from where I live
chasing bands I wan’ be Pablo of all this shit

they a lot of talk,
I dont talk, I get it
yeah you know I’m bout it
if it kill me imma let it
Running to the bag like I’m so athletic
Ive been up since 6 Making hits like tennis
Ive been on fire I just need my credit
Wanna go far need to change my setting
reaching for the stars hope my feet touch heaven
Havent had firsts bitch already want seconds

100 metre dash when I step out
she say im the best out
i just had to go and get some shit up off my chest now
hotel I just checked out
shows Im about to sell out
i spent way too long up in this city need to get out
I’ve been over it
Only been moving slower
They told me that I’d be nowhere
I had to go keep composure
I never be losing focus
I’m colder than Minnesota
I’m tryna be on them posters
The pressure up on my shoulders
Bitch
Slowly moving up and going up cause I ain’t with you
If I’m taking shots you better hope that I just miss you
Popping off at y’all like I been gripping on the pistol
Shawty think I’m cute she wanna blow me like a whistle
Way too far ahead and they just copy like a stencil
Made a couple racks and now I want myself a Benz full
I been going crazy I ain’t talking about my mental
Need a couple whips and I ain’t talking bout no rentals

they a lot of talk,
I dont talk, I get it
yeah you know I’m bout it
if it kill me imma let it
Running to the bag like I’m so athletic
Ive been up since 6 Making hits like tennis
Ive been on fire I just need my credit
Wanna go far need to change my setting
reaching for the stars hope my feet touch heaven
Havent had firsts bitch already want seconds

Tittle: Tennis;
Artist: Young Lungs;
Music: Cian P;
Lyrics: Young Lungs;
Mix/master: Cian P;
Video: Iced Out Visuals;

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Materiał Video Od: QueQuality