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SUVs (Black On Black) Lyrics by Jack Harlow Jack Harlow
Below, you will find the lyrics for SUVs (Black On Black) by Jack Harlow.
All of my brags turn to facts
And that's why
All my brags turn to facts, all my hunnids turn to racks
All my ladies turn to snacks, SUVs black on
SUVs black on black
I was fuckin' up, but now I'm back on track, that's a fact
Filet mignon, that's on Jack
I done turned a penthouse suite into my natural habitat
I just got my taxes back, that shit cut my cash in half
And it hurt main chick say I'm a flirt
Older women fall for me, I make 'em press that Life Alert
I just took a flight back to the A, I'm ready get right to work
Me, I keep the coolest head even when they get hype at first
Lotta people back at home, they tryna make it out the dirt
Don't stop pushin', used to catch Z's on the couch cushions
Now I call the shots like I'm John Wooden
In the kitchen with my jewelry in the pot cookin'
Walkin' through the mall, and they can't stop lookin'
All my brags turn to facts, all my hunnids turn to racks
All my ladies turn to snacks, SUVs black on
SUVs black on black
I was fuckin' up, but now I'm back on track, that's a fact
Yeah, yeah, I seen hitters turn to rats
We went from hemis to them 'Cats
Remember trailed me in my Track'
SUVs SUVs black on black
I see 'em talkin' tough, can't wait to slime 'em out, king slatt
Every car I get up in gotta have two up on the dash
And every ho I want, every ho I want get smashed
Tryna reach for somethin' around my neck, get hit with the whole mag
All these new VVs on me wet, you can blame Wafi for this glass
We stand against the opps forever, ain't no puttin' shit in the past
If you was lookin' for and couldn't find me, I was in my bag
It's sixty rounds under my chop, all my guns got extended mags
Put no tags up on my Trackhawk 'cause I plan on doin' the dash
After I get away, re-wrap it all black
Think 'bout your folks before you play, you gotta be smarter than that
I'm tryna go back and rebuild the hood where I was starvin' at
And that's a fact, you fuck with Harlow
I send hollow bullets just like a quarterback
All my brags turn to facts, all my hunnids turn to racks
All my ladies turn to snacks, SUVs black on
SUVs black on black
I was fuckin' up, but now I'm back on track, that's a fact
Yeah, yeah, I seen hitters turn to rats
We went from hemis to them 'Cats
Remember trailed me in my Track'
SUVs SUVs black on black
I see 'em talkin' tough, can't wait to slime 'em out, king slatt, brr, brr
Brr
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