Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Polo G
Polo G
Vocals
Future
Future
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Taurus Bartlett
Taurus Bartlett
Songwriter
Joshua Luellen
Joshua Luellen
Songwriter
Nayvadius Wilburn
Nayvadius Wilburn
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Southside
Southside
Producer
Patrizio "Teezio" Pigliapoco
Patrizio "Teezio" Pigliapoco
Mixing Engineer
Ignacio Portales
Ignacio Portales
Assistant Engineer
Dale Becker
Dale Becker
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

I know you waiting Getting fed up, you're running out of patience Just keep your head up, I told you, "we'd make it" Can't give my meds up, I see too many faces, uh In 'em foreign's racing Best make it count, make sure it's no time wasted I beat the trenches for my team, that was a great win Lose, when you gave it everything, that's hard to take in (uh-uh-uh) Ayy, look, I do this shit for all my guys that got put under 50 shots, I'm a drummer, them guns spit thunder One shot and he dead, call that bitch the one-hit-wonder No, we don't aim for legs, tryna make it hot all summer As a small kid, I used to want a H2 Hummer My uncle did a bid, they could've gave him football numbers I went from Mandrake, daily tryna work on my jumper Now it's gang-gang, we stay on top of shit like a plunger, uh Old heads can't trick us, drop rakes when we flick up Lawyer's face get zipped up, ambulance pick up Oh, red cups full of liquor Let lead bust for my niggas Come through and tear it up with them blickers I really fed all of my killers Uh, I know you're waiting Getting fed up, you're running out of patience Just keep your head up, I told you, "We'd make it" Can't give my meds up, I see too many faces, uh In 'em foreign's racing Best make it count, make sure it's no time wasted I beat the trenches for my team, that was a great win Lose when you gave it everything, that's hard to take in (uh-uh-uh) Ayy, I'm gettin' fast money 'cause I ain't got no patience I'm with my team 'cause they cook niggas like bacon I did my thing trappin' out the spot was vacant Lil' nigga in jail, stabbing shit up like he Jason, uh, uh, uh Runnin' up fresh with some horses like I'm racing Bitch so bad, look photoshopped when she naked Made it out the jungle, where they're scorching and blazing My dawg get money and I get money, nigga, it's contagious Went from a trapper to living like a popstar I done got so rich, I'm feeding my lil' kids caviar My bitch don't want for shit, she get whatever she want My shooter walk you down, stand over you, make sure it's done Uh, I know you're waiting Getting fed up, you're running out of patience Just keep your head up, I told you, "We'd make it" Can't give my meds up, I see too many faces, uh In 'em foreign's racing Best make it count, make sure it's no time wasted I beat the trenches for my team, that was a great win Lose, when you gave it everything, that's hard to take in (uh-uh-uh)
Writer(s): Nayvadius Wilburn, Joshua Howard Luellen, Taurus Tremani Bartlett Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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