Back to Top

21 Savage - Issa Album Lyrics



21 Savage - Issa Album Lyrics






Famous

Rags to riches, nigga came from the bottom
Hood rats, now a nigga f*ckin' on models
Ridin' in the foreign, remember ridin' on MARTA
Grind got harder and my mind got smarter
I was gettin' bags for the cheap
When I ain't had money, I was robbin', nigga
I was gettin' bags for the free
21 Gang, they were right beside me
And they still with me, nigga, I'm on TV
Couple niggas switched up, bitched up, f*ck 'em
I can't go nowhere without a pistol or a rubber
I'm too, too player to put a bitch before my brother
I'm too street smart, nigga, to serve a undercover
Niggas tryna clone a nigga's shit, damn, woah
Used to drive a hotbox, shit, Lambo
Niggas want a handout, shit, mine broke
I grinded for this shit, I grinded for this shit
Can't change on my gang, niggas still here
Kinda hard to change my ways 'cause the shit real
Niggas rappin' 'bout shit they ain't even lived
Niggas lyin', I can hear it in their ad-libs
I'm poppin' Percocets, bitch, not Advil
It's kinda f*cked up what they did to Black, damn
If I catch him in the trap, I'ma whack him
I catch that boy in traffic, nigga, I'ma whack him
Nigga, try to keep up with this fashion
Makin' sure my kids happy
They dependent on their daddy
Tryin' not to let the streets distract me
I know it's bumps in the road like acne
Had to sell dope, I couldn't be an athlete
I'm a solid young nigga, you can ask C
The internet ain't gon' help you understand me

I'm a street nigga, yeah I'm famous
I'm a rapper, nigga, and I'm gangbangin'
Everybody kill a nigga, what you claimin'?
Everybody get it with your nigga flamin'
All these chains on a nigga like I'm stranglin'
Ran off with your money, nigga, guess we straight then
You knockoff gangbangers ain't bangin'
In the hood everyday, I'm hangin'

And I come through when the gang need
And I wear shades so they can't see
And I pay them lawyers and the bond fees
Nigga one thousand, I'm beyond G
I put my main bitch inside Givenchy
Niggas still askin', "Can you front me?"
My old ho sayin', "Boy you growed up"
Promethazine, it got a nigga slowed up
Too solid, pussy niggas can't disclose us
Went and seen Eliante, and he froze us
I'm too street to walk around with my nose up
Especially to the niggas knew me 'fore I blowed up
Savage Mode drop, now my price'll go up
Streets cold, nigga, they ain't showin' no love
Niggas get in front of judge and they fold up
Face shot, hit that boy with the whole dub

I'm a street nigga, yeah I'm famous
I'm a rapper, nigga, and I'm gangbangin'
Everybody kill a nigga, what you claimin'?
Everybody get it with your nigga flamin'
All these chains on a nigga like I'm stranglin'
Ran off with your money, nigga, guess we straight then
You knockoff gangbangers ain't bangin'
In the hood everyday, I'm hangin'

Couple niggas switched up, bitched up, f*ck 'em
I can't go nowhere without a pistol or a rubber
I'm too, too player to put a bitch before my brother
I'm too street smart, nigga, to serve a undercover
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: LELAND WAYNE, SHAYAA BIN ABRAHAM-JOSEPH, XAVIER L. DOTSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, BMG Rights Management




Bank Account

I buy a new car for the bitch (for real)
I tear down the mall with the bitch (for real)
You can't even talk to the bitch (no)
She f*cking with bosses and shit (oh God)
I pull up in 'Rari's and shit, with choppers and Harley's and shit (for real)
I be Gucci'd down, you wearing Lacoste and shit (bitch)
Yeah, Moncler, yeah, fur came off of that, yeah (yeah)
Triple homicide, put me in a chair, yeah (in jail)
Triple cross the plug, we do not play fair, yeah (oh God)
Got 'em tennis chains on and they real blingy (blingy)
Draco make you do the chicken head like Chingy (Chingy)
Walk in Neiman Marcus and I spend a light fifty (fifty)
Please proceed with caution, shooters, they be right with me (21)
Bad bitch, cute face and some nice titties
Seventy-five hunnid on a Saint Laurent jacket (yeah)
Bitch, be careful where you dumpin' your ashes (bitch)
I ain't no sucker, I ain't cut for no action (nah)
The skreets raised me, I'm a ho bastard (wild, wild, wild, wild)
I bought a 'Rari just so I can go faster (skrrt)
Niggas tryna copy me, they playin' catch up (21)
I might pull up in a Ghost, no Casper (21)
I been smoking gas and I got no asthma

I got one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight M's in my bank account, yeah (oh God)
In my bank account, yeah (oh God)
In my bank account, yeah (oh God)
In my bank account, yeah (oh God)
In my bank account, yeah (oh God)
In my bank account, yeah (oh God)
I got one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight shooters ready to gun you down, yeah (fast)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (oh God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (oh God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (oh God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (oh God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (oh God)

Yeah, dog (huh yeah) nah for real dog (21)
Straight up out the 6, now got a house in the Hills, dog (21)
Wanna see a body, nigga? Get you killed dog (wet)
Wanna tweet about me, nigga? Get you killed dog (wet)
Killed dog, I'm a real dog (21) you a lil' dog (21)
Be a dog, wanna be a dog, chasing mil's dog (yeah)
Dunk right in your bitch like O'Neal, dog (wet)
Yes I shoot like Reggie Mill', dog (21)
Chopper sting you like a eel, dog (fast)

I got one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight M's in my bank account, yeah (oh God)
In my bank account, yeah (oh God)
In my bank account, yeah (oh God)
In my bank account, yeah (oh God)
In my bank account, yeah (oh God)
In my bank account, yeah (oh God)
I got one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight shooters ready to gun you down, yeah (fast)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (oh God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (oh God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (oh God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (oh God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (oh God)

Ruler clips, send a ruler hit
Pull up on your bitch, she say that I got a ruler dick
Spray your block down, we not really with that ruh-rah shit
Glock cocked now, I don't really give no f*ck 'bout who I hit
Yeah, your bitch, she get jiggy with me
Keep that Siggy with me
Bitch, I'm Mad Max, you know I got Ziggy with me
Keep a mad mag in case they wanna get busy with me
'Rari matte black and I got a Bentley with me

I got one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight M's in my bank account, yeah (oh God)
In my bank account, yeah (oh God)
In my bank account, yeah (oh God)
In my bank account, yeah (oh God)
In my bank account, yeah (oh God)
In my bank account, yeah (oh God)
I got one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight shooters ready to gun you down, yeah (fast)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (oh God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (oh God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (oh God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (oh God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (oh God)

Seventy-five hunnid on a Saint Laurent jacket (yeah)
Bitch, be careful where you dumpin' your ashes (bitch)
I ain't no sucker, I ain't cut for no action (nah)
The skreets raised me, I'm a ho bastard
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Coleridge Taylor Perkinson, Leland Tyler Wayne, Shayaa Bin Abraham-Joseph
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Close My Eyes

If young Metro don't trust you I'm gonna shoot you

Lot of shots, thirty's on Glock
Put you on Fox, put 'em in a casket, yeah
Pull up on a Banshee, yeah
Nigga, f*ck your handshake, yeah
I feel like I'm the last real rapper 'cause these niggas weird
Nah, these niggas queers, sippin' Ac', cheers
In my own lane, nigga, watch where you steer
Think I got 'em scared, shot 'em in the beard
That's a chin check, I'm certified everywhere
Man, I'm certified for real, nigga
Nah, for real, nigga
Used to record right on deal, nigga
Nah, for real, nigga
Pillow talking get you killed, nigga
Nah, for real, nigga
Bronx niggas say I'm ill nigga
Nah, for real, nigga
Bought a pawn shop for real, bitch
Nah, for real, bitch
Keep my gun cocked for real, bitch
Nah, for real, bitch
Nigga, we bond drop for real, bitch
Nah, for real, bitch
Cut your lawns off for real, bitch
Nah, for real, bitch

I don't wanna go to sleep, I'm way too high, dog
I can't get no sleep, I swear I'm way too high, dog
I see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dog
I see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dog
Peel a hotbox when it's time to ride, dog
If you froze up last time, you can't ride, dog
I see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dog
I see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dog

Molly make ya' jaws lock
Nah, for real, dog
This bitch done got me pissed off
Need a pill, dog
Tryna make a brick log, we'd be rich, dog
Tryna make a brick log, we'd be rich, dog
I bought a nine and he front a nine, that's a half a brick
Got a 'Rari nigga in the back still in the six
We was young, you was on the swing, I was playin' with sticks
In the trap, listenin' for the brakes on a Crown Vic
Hit a muhf*ckin' squeak, we gon' hit the cut
Trickin' niggas in the spot, we gon' stick 'em up
Fox Five gang, coroner gon' pick 'em up
Breaking news gang, nigga, put your trigger finger up
Yeah, all my niggas throwed off
Drive by, shoot your doors off
Turn your four door to a coupe, nigga
Yeah, knock the noodles out your soup, nigga
Yeah, Zone 6 niggas love to shoot niggas
Yeah, you heard 'bout it
Nigga, we ain't worried 'bout ya
Hang around real shottas, hang around real robbers
Y'all nigga real killers, pullin' up real yoppas

I don't wanna go to sleep, I'm way too high, dog
I can't get no sleep, I swear I'm way too high, dog
I see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dog
I see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dog
Peel a hotbox when it's time to ride, dog
If you froze up last time, you can't ride, dog
I see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dog
I see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dog

Go against the gang, that's like suicide, dog
Go against the gang, that's like suicide, dog
Walk ups only when I'm shooting a drive, dog
We woke the neighbors up, at first the street was quiet, dog
Have you ever did a real homicide, nigga?
Have you ever made a nigga mama cry, nigga?
Do or die, nigga, gotta do or die, nigga
If you ain't the one doing it, you gon' die, nigga
Sometimes I look at God and I wonder why nigga
Why my niggas had to be the ones that had to die, nigga
They killed one, we gon' kill five, nigga
Winter time, we gon' set your block on fire, nigga
Yeah, yeah, like the 4th July, nigga
Broad day, lettin' them bullets fly, nigga
Pull up with a stick like I'm Sah, nigga
Gang gang, dare a nigga to try it, nigga

I don't wanna go to sleep, I'm way too high, dog
I can't get no sleep, I swear I'm way too high, dog
I see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dog
I see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dog
Peel a hotbox when it's time to ride, dog
If you froze up last time, you can't ride, dog
I see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dog
I see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dog
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Leland Tyler Wayne, Shayaa Bin Abraham-Joseph
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Bad Business

Yeah lil' bitch, yeah
Know what goin' on lil' bitch, yeah
Big dawg, lil' bitch
Yeah come suck a big dick, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, ah, ah
Ow, wow, wow, wow
Woah, woah, woah, woah, yeah

Hellcat speed racin' (speed racin')
Suck it 'til your knees achin' (knees achin')
Bitch I ain't got no patience (no patience)
I'm finna take a vacation (a vacation)
Saint Laurent jacket, thirty-five thou (yeah)
Cartier shades, twenty-five thou (yeah)
You ready to tell, I can see it in your eyes dawg (yeah)
I ain't got no license but I still drive dawg (yeah)
Two hundred on the dash, real fast, yeah (21, 21)
Project bitch, real ass, yeah (real ass)
On that Glenwood I made a lot of cash, yeah (real cash)
At the bottom, up in Hollow sellin' bags, yeah (real bags)
You niggas got me f*cked up, you got me twisted (yeah)
I pull it out the boxers and then she lick it (yeah)
I'm smoking on some moonrock, this shit is sticky (yeah)
That Golden State troopers, I'm finna hit it (skrt)

Do the dash in it (21), throw some cash in it (yeah)
Let me smash in it (yeah), I'll smash in it (yeah)
Run a train on her, let me tag my mans in it (yeah)
Pour some Henny in her cup and put some xans in it (yeah)

Bitch I'm bad business (21), bitch I'm bad business (woah)
Bitch I'm bad business (woah), bitch I'm bad business (woah, woah)
Bitch I'm bad business (woah), bitch I'm bad business (yeah)
Bitch I'm bad business (yeah), bitch I'm bad business (yeah)

Niggas talk (21)
Hoes talk (lil' bitch)
Thirty on the Glock, let the poles talk (21, 21)
Party on the yacht, brought the hoes out (21, 21)
All my niggas on the yacht sewn out (yeah)
I'm in the Hellcat doin' donuts (yeah)
Your baby mama sleepin' on the blow-up (blow-up)
Mad Max, nigga what the bloodclaat (the bloodclaat)
Four-five leave you with a blood clot (a blood clot)
Savage 'round killers nigga, oh shit (oh shit)
Percocets and lean, that's my dosage (facts)
I heard you got them bags, get your door kicked (smash)
Four-four two with the floor shift (rah)

Do the dash in it (yeah), throw some cash in it (yeah)
Let me smash in it (woah), I'll smash in it (I'll smash)
Run a train on her, let me tag my mans in it (my mans)
Pour some Henny in her cup and put some xans in it (xans)

Bitch I'm bad business (yeah), bitch I'm bad business (yeah)
Bitch I'm bad business (yeah), bitch I'm bad business (yeah)
Bitch I'm bad business (yeah), bitch I'm bad business (yeah)
Bitch I'm bad business (yeah), bitch I'm bad business (yeah)
Alright
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jacob Dutton, Joshua Luellen, Samuel Wishkoski, Shayaa Bin Abraham-Joseph
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Baby Girl

Yeah, whole pointers 'round my muhf*ckin' neck, nigga
Yeah, six karats in my ears, nigga
Yeah, I look like a blizzard, lil' nigga

Yeah, too many chains, bitch, you can't change
Yeah, treat these hoes like I ain't got home training
Yeah, ten inch chains, too many karats
Yeah, VVS nigga, real clarity
Yeah, I'm a gangster, you a bitch, clearly
Yeah, can't let a broke bitch get near me
Yeah, and the bank cash my check barely
Yeah, Saint Laurent got your bitch staring
Goyard bag, I'm on some other shit, bitch boy
Fire at us and get your pussy ass hit, boy
You dropped outta school to jump out with that stick, boy
All you niggas get capped, I'm the real McCoy
Yeah, smoking cookie, nigga, Chips Ahoy
Yeah, had to block her number 'cause the bitch annoying
No more hot boxes, nigga, all my shit foreign
Red, red, pee in the bed, got a nigga snoring

Yeah, suck me like a lollipop, baby girl
Yeah, suck me like a lollipop, baby girl
Ride that dick and do the bunny hop, baby girl
Ride that dick and do the bunny hop, baby girl
Ye ain't talkin' 'bout money, I ain't stayin', baby girl
Ye ain't talkin' 'bout f*ckin', I ain't stayin', baby girl
Did that Gucci shit, all that shit be tailored, girl
Yeah, you got some cake, a nigga tryna bake it, girl

Stab a nigga up, this that Shawshank Redemption
Bitch, I send hits, I don't walk 'round with tension
Got a island girl and she come from St. Vincent
Pull up with a choppers, nigga started running, not flinching
Bitch, I'm John Gotti, I be running like henchmen
Bitch, you better be a pro
'Cause you ain't finna learn how to suck on this dick
Bitch, I'mma buy me a K, extended clip on the bottom of this shit
Bitch, my 833's and 204, they makin' me biscuits
Hoe, I'm really rich, don't know what a bitch thought
VVS bitch, they doin' a crip walk
Niggas act like JJ, you might as well hit chalk
My GD partners throwin' up the pitchfork
Put it in a bowl and whip it 'til it get hard
I don't smoke weed 'cause it make me shh-noid
I pull up with the stick and let this bitch spark
Swear I would've shot that cracker if I was Rosa Parks

Yeah, suck me like a lollipop, baby girl
Yeah, suck me like a lollipop, baby girl
Ride that dick and do the bunny hop, baby girl
Ride that dick and do the bunny hop, baby girl
Ye ain't talkin' 'bout money, I ain't stayin', baby girl
Ye ain't talkin' 'bout f*ckin', I ain't stayin', baby girl
Did that Gucci shit, all that shit be tailored, girl
Yeah, you got some cake, a nigga tryna bake it, girl

Nah, for real, dog, nah, for real, dog
Nah, for real, dog, nah, for real, dog
Nah, for real, dog, nah, for real, dog
Nah, for real, dog, nah, for real, dog
21
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jordan Timothy Jenks, Pierre Bourne, Shayaa Bin Abraham-Joseph
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Thug Life

Scrape the corner
Buy a Rover
Crack inside my grandmas sofa
Sunday, family coming over
Move the crack behind the toaster
Carry pistols with no holsters
Trying not to be a poster
You was listening to your coaches
I was listening to the vultures
And I slept with rats and roaches
That's why I don't smoke no roaches
Niggas tryna knock my focus
Wonder why I'm sick of potion
We happy dawg but we ain't jokin'
Big bullets, we ain't poking
In that pussy, slow motion
Nigga ain't none of my songs wrote

I'm thinking to myself you ain't gang, nigga, f*ck you
Feel like 2Pac, Thug Life, nigga, f*ck you
If he had the password to your phone he wouldn't have cuffed you
Dog ass bitch, I knew I never should've trusted you

Hoe stab a nigga in the back like the streets do
Can't believe that you betrayed me, I used to sleep with you
Niggas quick to say they loyal to you, they be see-through
Gang, gang, screaming "F*ck you, they want to eat you"
My son got asthma, grandma having spasms
F*ck the chatter, he gon' tattle, put 'em on the platter
Snakes plotting on my downfall I can hear 'em rattle
(That f*ck nigga gone flop man
21 ain't even no real nigga, f*ck that nigga)
We sticking to the G code, nigga we ain't beefin' over freak ho's
I hit her on the D low, yeah she like my steelo
That nigga think that he a bullet, don't like credit, Deebow
30-round hangin' out the big Glock
Nigga, no six shots, shootin' 'til the clip stops
You a lil' cat, I'm a big dog
Nigga, when we pullin' up the stick's out
Too much money got 'em pissed off
Nigga, I'ma pull up at yo bitch house
F*ck a niggas bitch to get a kick out it
Nigga pop percs, 'gone get a kick out it
Drinking on syrup with my dick out
Glock-17 with the dick out

I'm thinking to myself you ain't gang, nigga, f*ck you
Feel like 2Pac, Thug Life, nigga, f*ck you
If he had the password to your phone he wouldn't have cuffed you
Dog ass bitch, I knew I never should've trusted you

Whatchu want, ho, I got whatchu want, ho
Whatchu want, ho, I got whatchu want, ho
Whatchu want, ho, I got whatchu want, ho
Whatchu want, ho, I got whatchu want, ho

I'mma tint, presidential, like I'm Trump though
Secret service shooters, leave 'em niggas slumped, dawg
Denzel, I get surgical with this pump, dawg
Bust it down, break it down, then I put it in a blunt, dawg
Made man stamp, I got 21 stamp
In my face, Teetee and Taytay in the same count
I was down, bad and now I'm shining like a lamp
You put a ring on her, she ain't nothing but a tramp
The kicked me outta middle school and sent me to the house
We 'bout that gunplay, nigga, motherf*ck 'yo count
19, I bought a Cutlass, four 12's and an amp
Beating down Glenwood, nigga, feeling like a champ
Nigga, we ain't takin' no deals
Lil nigga we ain't snitchin', we ain't making no sound
Used to jump niggas, now we jumping in a crowd
Used to make my mama cry, but now I make her proud
I remember rainy days but now she like the sound

I'm thinking to myself you ain't gang, nigga, f*ck you
Feel like 2Pac, Thug Life, nigga, f*ck you
If he had the password to your phone he wouldn't have cuffed you
Dog ass bitch, I knew I never should've trusted you

Hoe stab a nigga in the back like the streets do
Can't believe that you betrayed me, I used to sleep with you
Niggas quick to say they loyal to you, they be see-through
Gang, gang, screaming "F*ck you, they want to eat you"
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Curtis Mayfield, Joshua Howard Luellen, Leland Tyler Wayne, Shayaa Bin Abraham-Joseph
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




FaceTime

Henny in my system, I'm gone
Speedin' on the E way, all gone
Girl you put up with that nigga? You strong
Ain't no need to play games, I'm grown
Out there cheating, man, it turn ya heart cold
She don't wanna hear the lies, it's old
Takin' shots even when it's too strong
F*ck a nigga, lick her, make her moan
Gotta get up in the mornin', she grown
I be drankin', I be drivin', I'm wrong
Had a long day at work and I know
I can't text my girl, I'm on my way home

I'm too drunk to text so can we FaceTime? (FaceTime)
I won't waste your time if you don't waste mine (don't waste mine)
Girl I wanna taste yours if you gon' taste mine (taste mine)
I won't take your love for granted if you don't take mine (take mine)

We can get drunk all weekend
Let's get drunk all weekend, baby
We can get drunk all weekend
Let's get drunk all weekend, baby
We can get drunk all weekend
Let's get drunk all weekend, baby
We can get drunk all weekend
Let's get drunk all weekend, yeah

I take her shoppin', that's easy
F*ck the summer, girl I ball all season
She don't want me to think that she easy
But she ain't tryna make it seem like she teasin'
We just chillin' at the bar and she cheesin'
Buy a hundred shots for no reason
Man, I'm tryna take you home this evening
Brown liquor got her panties leakin'
That nigga stealin' pussy, he thiefin'
OG Kush, I'm chiefin'
Let me swim inside your pool, yeah, the deep end
And we can get drunk all weekend

I'm too drunk to text so can we FaceTime? (FaceTime)
I won't waste your time if you don't waste mine (don't waste mine)
Girl I wanna taste yours if you gon' taste mine (taste mine)
I won't take your love for granted if you don't take mine (take mine)
I'm too drunk to text so can we FaceTime? (FaceTime)
I won't waste your time if you don't waste mine (don't waste mine)
Girl I wanna taste yours if you gon' taste mine (taste mine)
I won't take your love for granted if you don't take mine (take mine)

We can get drunk all weekend
Let's get drunk all weekend, baby
We can get drunk all weekend
Let's get drunk all weekend, baby
We can get drunk all weekend
Let's get drunk all weekend, baby
We can get drunk all weekend
Let's get drunk all weekend, yeah

I'm too drunk to text so can we FaceTime? (FaceTime)
I won't waste your time if you don't waste mine (don't waste mine)
Girl I wanna taste yours if you gon' taste mine (taste mine)
I won't take your love for granted if you don't take mine (take mine)

I'm too drunk to text so can we FaceTime? (FaceTime)
I won't waste your time if you don't waste mine (don't waste mine)
Girl I wanna taste yours if you gon' taste mine (taste mine)
I won't take your love for granted if you don't take mine (take mine)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Dijon Isaiah McFarlane, Lewis Beresford Hughes, Nicholas Valentino Audino, Shayaa Bin Abraham-Joseph, Te Whiti Te Rangitepaia Mataa Warbrick
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Nothin New

They thought I only rapped about murder and pistols
I'm tryna feed my family, I ain't being political
You ain't givin' out money then they look at you pitiful
You make a couple million, niggas greedy, they envy you
Ayy, f*ck that other side, we gon' shoot up your Sprinter
I used to sell that crack and spray that MAC out that rental
Niggas run and hide when we roll down the window
Got a extendo and a hoodie, he can't wait 'til December
Got a extendo and a hoodie, he gon' shoot you on camera
Lost his faith in Jesus Christ, he prayin' to a bandana
Police gunned his brother down, this shit too hard to handle
Loading up his chopper, he gon' show 'em Black Lives Matter

Another nigga made the news, it ain't nothin' new
He done dropped outta school, it ain't nothin' new
He done got his first tool, it ain't nothin' new
Mama on that dog food, it ain't nothin' new
He smokin' weed and he changin', it ain't nothin' new
All his friends gang bangin', it ain't nothin' new
Got a pocket full of hundreds and they all blue
Another nigga from the hood tryna ball too

Shit gettin' outrageous
Treat us like slaves then they lock us up in cages
Young, black, poor, ain't had a father since a baby
Why you think we skip school and hang out on the pavement?
Why you think we ridin' 'round with choppers off safety?
Streets cutthroat, nigga, so I'm cutthroat
I used to sell dope, nigga, now I can't vote
Poppin' Percocets to kill the pain, I can't cope
Anger in my genes, they used to hang us up with ropes
Civil rights came so they flood the hood with coke
Breakin' down my people, tryna kill our faith and hope
They killed Martin Luther King and all he did was spoke
Welcome to the hood, yeah where niggas dyin' at
Same place where the best chicken gettin' fried at
Same place where the police killin', tellin' lies at
It ain't just the babies, man, I swear the mama's cryin' now

Another nigga made the news, it ain't nothin' new
He done dropped outta school, it ain't nothin' new
He done got his first tool, it ain't nothin' new
Mama on that dog food, it ain't nothin' new
He smokin' weed and he changin', it ain't nothin' new
All his friends gang bangin', it ain't nothin' new
Got a pocket full of hundreds and they all blue
Another nigga from the hood tryna ball too
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Leland Tyler Wayne, Shayaa Bin Abraham-Joseph, Xavier L. Dotson
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes




Numb

Grind hard, nigga, grind hard, I done grind hard
Late nights playin' b-ball with a decoy
I was on the corner with the robbers and the D-boys
Now I'm on the charts, man, this shit is unbelievable
Mama, it's a lot of secrets that I had to keep from you
Got in so much trouble, thought the teachers had beef with you
And it paid off 'cause we livin' like the Greeks and Jews
Used to leave your stove runnin', stove runnin'
Now it's Louis rags when my nose runnin'
Got it out the mud, I don't owe nothin'
You pussy-ass niggas ain't on nothin'
Wanna see me f*cked up 'cause they poor hustlin'
The same niggas with me back when I was head itchin'
Man I'm having nightmares that the feds listenin'
You fake gangstas pump fakin' and they scared snitchin'
The coupe fast and it's f*cking up the dash digital

Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money
Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the
Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money
Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the
Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money
Numb the pain with the money, numb the
Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money
Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the

It's a bag on his head, I'ma pick it up
It was money in the house, I used to stick it up
Got your main bitch chillin', splashin', tryna lick it up
Dick ridin', niggas always tryna flick it up
I ain't tryna take no bitches, bitch I'm rollin' Swishers
I count my back end then I jump out with that pistol
If you ain't suckin' dick you get a early dismissal
We got your wifey at the spot, she tryna lick a pickle
I just went and bought a Lamb and it cost a nickel
And I came from the bottom and it feel good
And I went platinum, still in the hood
And I take the gang with me everywhere I go
Why these niggas hatin' on me? Man I don't know
Ain't a place in the world that I can't go
And I got a hundred racks inside a Go-Go
And I get a hundred racks for a show, show
Wanna give a bitch my heart but I can't though
I can't fall in love with a stank ho
Lil' bitch I fell in love with the bank ho
And you know I love that good drank, ho

Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money
Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the
Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money
Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the
Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money
Numb the pain with the money, numb the
Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money
Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the

Numb the pain with the money and ride 'round with that Tommy
And I put it in her stomach and I made that lil' bitch ride me
You're my old school runner, you're my old school runner
But my new school runnin', it costs more than a hundred
You lil' niggas so bummy (21)
Make a diss song, they gon' wrap you like a mummy
My young niggas geekin' on food like zombies
They hungry, up it on you then they tell you, "Run it"
I stole cars, drove them like go-karts
Niggas actin' like bitches, they got both parts
And I came from the gutter, I don't got no heart
And I'm straight up out the gutter, I don't got no heart
Nigga when they killed my brother, I had to go hard
Put that chopper in his face and then I Bogart
Niggas tryna cross me, I don't understand it
I'm just tryna take care of the family
And I'm sippin' codeine, not brandy (21)
And I'm sippin' codeine, I'm a addict
You go to jail, can't depend on a bad bitch
She f*cked and sucked him tryna keep up with the fashion
And I'm really, really rich and I ain't braggin'
Sometimes I really can't believe this shit happened
Who woulda thought I'd make it rappin'?
I almost lost my life when I was trappin'

Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money
Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the
Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money
Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the
Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money
Numb the pain with the money, numb the
Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money
Numb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the

If Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Leland Tyler Wayne, Shayaa Bin Abraham-Joseph
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




Dead People

I'mma handle business
S600 big body and it's tinted, just to handle business
Percocets they got me in my feelings
I drive that Range Rover like it's rented
Hit 'em in the face, 'fore you turn state
Gotta beat the case, we gon' f*ck your bae
We gon' beat her face
Walked out of Wells Fargo and ran to Chase
Hopped out a Bentley truck and jumped inside a Wraith
Young Savage, I was trappin' on the back street
All in traffic with that ratchet on the backseat
From the gutter, fake models don't attract me
Got a project bitch, she love to get nasty

I been drinkin' syrup since Denny's
Gotta keep it on me, niggas schemin'
Right pocket full of dead people
I been hangin' with the dead people
I been hangin' with the dead people
I been hangin' with the dead people
All my pockets full of dead people
I done fell in love with dead people

Bitch you gettin' comfortable, I don't need you
You come around the gang, we might G you
She say don't nobody f*ck her like we do
You know I share everything with my people
My jewelry twinkle twinkle
Doin' donuts in the foreign while it sprinkles
You keep callin', I'm ignoring, bitch I'm single
You keep callin', bitch I'm single like a Pringle
You know I'm fly like G4
Bitch you riding in a Pinto
Bitch you know your nigga lame like the Winslows
I'm 21 but you know PDE my kin folk

I been drinkin' syrup since Denny's
Gotta keep it on me, niggas schemin'
Right pocket full of dead people
I been hangin' with the dead people
I been hangin' with the dead people
I been hangin' with the dead people
All my pockets full of dead people
I done fell in love with dead people
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jacob Brian Dutton, Joshua Luellen, Samuel Wishkoski, Shayaa Bin Abraham-Joseph
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Money Convo

Peon ass niggas
Levis and Adidas ass niggas
High Point having ass niggas
I got a Glock and it don't jam, I blast niggas
You a lovey dovey buy a ring nigga
I'm the type to pass her to the team, nigga
You went and bought that bitch Celine, nigga?
Now she f*ckin' me, I know you wanna kill her
And I sold dope on my 10 toes
We ain't fallin' out over freak hoes
21 Savage still in savage mode
I thought I told you I'm a savage on these hoes
Maybach with the curtains up
I'm with Nudy, he gon' burn you up
Fake gangbangin', nigga turned into a snitch
Went against that 21, I left him in a ditch

Pull up
We like gas, we like gas, gas, gas
Hol' up
We like cash, we like cash, cash, cash
Hol' up
Wanna f*ck me, I'm like yas, yas, yas
Hol' up
VVS' drippin', dance, dance, dance

Money conversations, money conversations, money convo
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo

Bitch I came straight from the bottom, nigga and I'm still humble
Auto start my whip before I dip, I let that bitch rumble
AK-47s, M16s, they gon' sting, bumble
Got your main bitch with me bent over eatin' meat, gumbo

Money talk, yeah, nigga, cash talk, yeah, nigga
Ridin' 'round with that yappa tryna duck the feds, nigga
Oh you drinkin' green? Nope, only drink that red, nigga
Only f*ck the bad hoes, buy my cars with cash, ho
Niggas know I blast off, pull up with the mask off
Air it out like aerosol, I robbed Peter and Paul
Bought a 488, finna act an asshole
I've been gettin' so much money, they think I sold my damn soul
You a fake gangsta, you ain't ever shot nobody
I don't wanna hear them stories 'bout them fake bodies
Young Savage send a hit like John Gotti
Nigga get whacked, thinkin' they hard 'cause they on molly
I'm the Saint Laurent Don, love to cash out
You a dick jumpin' faggot, you a mascot
You beat your bitch 'cause she walk 'round with her ass out
They wanna rob me 'cause I walk 'round with that bag out
Drinkin' syrup, lil' bitch, I'm finna pass out
Never slippin', Glock 40 with a red dot
Seven figure nigga, money all I talk about
You ain't talkin' 'bout no money, what ya talkin' 'bout?

Money conversations, money conversations, money convo
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo

Bitch I came straight from the bottom, nigga and I'm still humble
Auto start my whip before I dip, I let that bitch rumble
AK-47s, M16s, they gon' sting, bumble
Got your main bitch with me bent over eatin' meat, gumbo

Metro Boomin want some more, nigga
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Leland Tyler Wayne, Shayaa Bin Abraham-Joseph
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




Special

In my feelings, she got me in my feelings
She got me in my feelings (forreal)
She got me in my feelings (forreal)
Got me in my feeling (forreal)
She got me in my feelings (forreal)
She got me in my feelings (forreal)
Got me

She got me in my feelings (forreal)
Buy a brand new Bentley (forreal)
Buy her new Chanel (forreal)
I don't kiss and tell (no)
Her diamonds raindrop (yeah)
Stay down when the fame stop (yeah)
She be scratching on my tank top
Real niggas 'gone make the pain stop
Bad bitch you gon' ride with me 'till the wheels off (21)
Baby, you 'gone calm me down when I'm pissed off (21)
I'm a savage so your panties might get ripped off (take 'em off)
Your ex didn't know how to appreciate you now he missed out

We got something special
We got something special
We got something special
We got something special
I was finna text you
But I ain't wanna pest you
Even if we ain't together (no matter we're forever)
I'm still coming to your rescue

Put you in that coupe
Put you in Jimmy Choo (21)
Birkin bag (yeah), twenty-five thousand on the tag (yeah)
Put you on a private jet (yeah)
We ain't never riding first class (yeah)
And we having sex in the air, (yeah)
Man I hope the pilot don't crash (yeah)
Hard to find a bad bitch to stay true to me (21)
Who gon' spend them late nights in the booth with me
Gotta get a bitch she pullin' up to shoot with me
If you can't stay down then you ain't gon' reap the fruits with me
Coke bottle model and she like to swallow
Pussy so good I give her all my guala (all my money)
I got your back forever, put that on my partner (on God)
You ain't gotta pay no bills you found a boss

We got something special
We got something special (yeah)
We got something special
We got something special
I was finna text you
But I ain't wanna pest you
Even if we ain't together (no matter we're forever)
I'm still coming to your rescue

Ride with me, ride with me
Tell the truth and don't you lie to me, lie to me
You know I need you on my side with me, side with me
Tell the truth and don't you lie to me, lie to me
Baby, roll with m,e roll with me
Jump in that coupe and, baby, coast with me, coast with me
If I was broke she kicking doors with me, doors with me
Baby, roll with me, roll with me (21)
I'mma hold you down forever
You my round forever
They just want to use you, but I'm tryna help you
Savage tryna build, they just tryna feel
Really ain't none of they business

We got something real special
We got something special
We got something special
We got something special
I was finna text you
But I ain't wanna pest you
Even if we ain't together (no matter we're forever)
I'm still coming to your rescue
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Shayaa Bin Abraham-Joseph, Wesley Tyler Glass
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes




Whole Lot

Yeah, it's a knife and all, y'know what I'm sayin'?
Yeah nigga, I hit your wife and all, y'know what I'm sayin'?
Yeah, this a plain AP, but I got a lotta watches, y'know what I'm sayin'?
Yeah

Nigga made a whole lotta guala
Now I got a whole lotta problems (yeah)
Main bitch f*ckin' my partner (main bitch)
Nigga, we ain't trippin', we ballin' (fool)
And I got a whole lotta shotters (and I gotta)
Hang around a whole lotta robbers (hang around)
And I got a bad bitch callin' (and I gotta)
Put a bad bitch in College
Catch a nigga ridin' down College (skrt skrt)
Catch a nigga ridin' down Gabby
We ain't talkin' 'bout it, we savage
We don't talk about it, we shottas
Straight up out the gutter, we charted (gutter)
Straight up out the gutter, we heartless (heartless)
I'm a street nigga and a artist (street nigga)
And I'm gon' hit my targets (voom voom)

VVS's drippin' off my chain, hoe (ooh)
I be in them places where you can't go (can't go)
My brother down the road on tango (I still see him)
You rap niggas sweeter than a mango (pussy sweet)
TEC on me with the coolie on it
I'ma f*ck around and I'ma squeeze (ooh)
Pain runnin' through my veins
I don't want the fame, I just wanna eat (ooh)
Rap niggas callin' my phone
F*ck these niggas, these niggas ain't G's (one hunnit)
Spilled a lot of niggas, I ain't spend no more
F*ck around and get robbed 'round me (fast)
Chain snatched
Watch snatched, don't get it back (get it)
Chopper on you
Wrong move, get hit in the back (cutter)
I'm Young Savage
Real nigga, they vouchin' for that (they vouchin' for that)
I keep it on me
One in the head, I'm cockin' it back

Nigga made a whole lotta guala
Now I got a whole lotta problems (yeah)
Main bitch f*ckin' my partner (main bitch)
Nigga, we ain't trippin', we ballin' (fool)
And I got a whole lotta shotters (and I gotta)
Hang around a whole lotta robbers (hang around)
And I got a bad bitch callin' (and I gotta)
Put a bad bitch in College
Catch a nigga ridin' down College (skrt skrt)
Catch a nigga ridin' down Gabby
We ain't talkin' 'bout it, we savage
We don't talk about it, we shottas
Straight up out the gutter, we charted (gutter)
Straight up out the gutter, we heartless (heartless)
I'm a street nigga and a artist (street nigga)
And I'm gon' hit my targets (voom voom)

And I make your bitch drop it back
And I spend a dub in Saks
And I do a whole lot of drinkin'
I done put a hole in my kidney
Y'all niggas pussy like kittens (uh)
VVS's on, I need mittens (VVS)
Nigga, we ain't leavin' no witness
Stomp a nigga 'til he need stitches (woah)
I ain't never played no victim
Every nigga played, I killed him
Put a nigga in a blender, nigga, then we chop it up (then we chop it up)
Put it in the Pyrex, nigga, then we lock it up (lock it up)
Put that bitch inside a Benz, she was in a Acura
Niggas be actin' tough, I just be stackin' up (I just be stackin' up)
Used to ride around with Dracos, now I'm going platinum (platinum)
Nigga, put gold on denim (gold)
Nigga, I said it, I meant it (meant it)
Nigga, be fresh like mint (fresh)
Nigga on Percs, I'm itchin' (nigga)
Nigga, I stayed in the trenches (nigga)
Niggas still play in the trenches (nigga)
Stayed up late on missions (fool)
Sometimes we ain't strike for a dime (for a dime)
If them niggas actin' scared, I ride (I'm gon' go)
When my brother got killed, I cried
I can't let a nigga stop my stride (stride)
Gotta keep this shit goin', gotta move (move)
If it come down to it, I'm bustin' moves (fool)
I jump up out that vert with a Uzi (skrt)
These facts, lil' nigga I'm the truth (truth)
You got goons, lil' nigga, I got troops (I got troops)
They don't got Instagrams 'cause they shoot (I got, I got)
Coulda got a four-door, I got a coupe (got that coupe)
Coulda f*cked that bitch, I passed her to the crew (here you go)
Shiverin' and shakin', boy you ain't gon' shoot
Wright Street, man I ate a lot of soups

Nigga made a whole lotta guala
Now I got a whole lotta problems (yeah)
Main bitch f*ckin' my partner (main bitch)
Nigga, we ain't trippin', we ballin' (fool)
And I got a whole lotta shotters (and I gotta)
Hang around a whole lotta robbers (hang around)
And I got a bad bitch callin' (and I gotta)
Put a bad bitch in College
Catch a nigga ridin' down College (skrt skrt)
Catch a nigga ridin' down Gabby
We ain't talkin' 'bout it, we savage
We don't talk about it, we shotters
Straight up out the gutter, we charted (gutter)
Straight up out the gutter, we heartless (heartless)
I'm a street nigga and a artist (street nigga)
And I'm gon' hit my targets (voom voom)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jeffrey Lamar Williams, Kevin Gomringer, Leland Tyler Wayne, Tim Gomringer, Shayaa Bin Abraham-Joseph
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




7 Min Freestyle

Goyard duffle, yeah yeah
Got that Draco in it, yeah yeah
Whip a chicken, yeah yeah
Tryna break the pot, yeah yeah
And I got that Glock, yeah yeah
I got thirty shots, yeah yeah
Got your baby mama, yeah yeah
She bent over nigga, yeah yeah
Young Savage trappin', yeah yeah
And I'm f*ckin' rappin', yeah yeah
I make lots of money, yeah yeah
And I throw it, throw it, yeah yeah
Ayy lil bitch you tryna blow it, yeah
Woah, chopper like a lawnmower, yeah
Woah, got that motherf*ckin' dagger on me
Woah, stab a nigga and his lil homie, woah
And I'm ballin' like Nowitzki, woah
I get head like Lewinsky
Police tryna fingerprint me, woah
I'm runnin' out that motherf*cker, nigga, woah
Get money like a motherf*cker, nigga
Bags in, nigga gas in
Cash out, nigga cash in
I'm robbin', ski maskin'
You niggas know that I'm 'bout action
Fishtail with the traction
F*ck a fistfight, nigga I was blasting
Air that motherf*cker out, we was smashin'
Got them VVS's on me, nigga glass
F*ck school nigga, always skipped class
F*ck the other side, throwin' red rags
Slaughter Gang, PDE gon' do you bad nigga
Runnin' through this cash, through this cash nigga
And my bitch bad, bitch bad nigga
Yeah, and I got a bag, got a bag nigga
Why these niggas mad, why they sad nigga
'Cause I'm poppin' ho, yeah I'm poppin' ho
Got your main bitch, pussy poppin' ho
We don't want that pussy, we just want that toppy ho
And I don't want it if the shit ain't sloppy ho
Yeah, gang gang, nigga gang gang
Ayy, niggas snitching in the chain gang, ayy
They must not know they go in the chain gang, ayy
Stab 'em up, nigga stab 'em up
I'm in a Bentley truck, you in a Acura
You niggas actin' like I ain't got racks or somethin'
You niggas actin' like I ain't in the trap or somethin'
F*ck you niggas thought, Savage was just rappin' huh
Hey, your main bitch, she gon' back it up
21, that two-two-three gon' make you back it up
21, that show money I just stack it up
21, I'm real gangster, you just acting tough, woah
Niggas tryna put the feds on me, woah
My young niggas droppin' shells on 'em, woah
I know they scared now, scared now
Niggas broke, they can't even pay they bail now
Ayy, I get a brick and I bust it down, nigga
Put it in the Pyrex and drown it, nigga
Water whip the dope, water whip it
Ho, water whip your ho, water whip 'em, yeah
Them VVS's got her hypnotized, yeah
I used to walk around with two nines, woah
Then I hit a nigga for two nines, 21
That's a half a brick lil nigga, 21
You a f*ckin' shrimp lil nigga, 21
I got somethin' for that lip lil nigga, 21
Have you with a limp lil nigga, 21
Cut you up, no temp lil nigga, yeah
I get money 'cause I'm rich nigga, yeah
I might f*ck all on your bitch nigga, yeah
Got her drinkin' in the VIP nigga, yeah
She want a gangster, not a wimp nigga, yeah
Burberry fur on me, shit, woah
Thirty, Steph Curry on me, shit, woah
Eating chicken curry in this bitch, woah
Good food, nigga good food, 21
I'm a gangster, you a good dude, 21
I won't text her 'til she send nudes, 21
She call my phone when the rent due, 21
I ain't got a dime for your stankin' ass, 21
Wash your behind with your stankin' ass, bitch
And your nigga broke, down bad, bitch
All my niggas havin' f*ckin' bags, bitch
Rich niggas, rich niggas, rich, 21
Hit nigga, hit nigga, hit, 21
That stick nigga, stick nigga, stick, 21
Bricks nigga, licks nigga, hits, 21
Slaughter Gang, PDE the shit, 21
Got the rap game on lock fast, 21
Got the block game on lock fast, 21
I got that Glock aim on lock fast, 21
I drop cop and send shots fast, 21
You only gangster when the gangsters gone, 21
You just a pussy with a camera phone, 21
You just a bitch with an Instagram, 21
No trigger finger, I got a trigger hand, 21
All of 'em like to shoot nigga, 21
All of 'em like boot nigga, 21
All of 'em in your boot nigga, 21
Finger holes, nigga finger holes, 21
You just a pussy with some finger rolls, 21
I can't respect a nigga with cornrows, 21
Broke nigga with your brother's clothes, 21
Broke nigga f*ckin' your brother's hoes, 21
Get your own nigga, get your own, 21
You ain't grown, nigga you ain't grown, 21
Your money brown and my money long, 21
My blunt green and my gas strong, 21
Your bitch bad and I got her number, 21
All her friends wanna throw a slumber, 21
I might f*ck all on that bitch mama, 21
I might take that lil bitch out to 'Hana's, 21
Put that lil bitch in a Benz, yeah, 21
I wish that bitch had a twin, yeah, 21
She want all my friends, yeah, 21
Man that bitch got on some Timbs, yeah, 21
But I put that bitch in Gucci Gucci, 21
Man I f*ck that bitch like she Karruche, 21
I might lick that, do the oochie coochie, 21
Got a brown one like a nigga Boosie, 21
Nigga catch me all up in Bruce's, 21
And you know I pull up with that uzi, 21
I'ma shoot a nigga, make the news and, 21
Niggas umm, niggas niggas losin', 21
Yeah yeah, nigga yeah yeah, 21
Serve a nigga with no scale scale, 21
Come and help me wrap this bale, bale, 21
F*ck 12, no seatbelt, 21
F*ck 12, I don't need help, 21
12 gauge, nigga that's my help, 21
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JOSHUA HOWARD LUELLEN, LELAND TYLER WAYNE, SHAYAA JOSEPH
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Back to: 21 Savage


Issa Album is the debut studio album by British-American rapper 21 Savage.

The album features production from frequent collaborator Metro Boomin, alongside Southside, Pi'erre Bourne, Zaytoven, Wheezy, DJ Mustard and 21 Savage himself.

It succeeds 21 Savage's collaborative EP with Metro Boomin, Savage Mode (2016).

Issa Album was supported by the lead single, "Bank Account". The album charted at number two on the US Billboard 200, and received generally positive reviews from critics.
Genre(s): Hip hop, trap
Producer(s): 21 Savage, Cubeatz, DJ Mustard, Metro Boomin, Pi'erre Bourne, Southside, Twice as Nice, Wheezy, Zaytoven
Released: July 7th, 2017
Year: 2017

Tags:
No tags yet