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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
41
41
Vocals
Kyle Richh
Kyle Richh
Vocals
Jenn Carter
Jenn Carter
Vocals
TaTa
TaTa
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kyle Richh
Kyle Richh
Songwriter
Jenn Carter
Jenn Carter
Songwriter
TaTa
TaTa
Songwriter
JonDior
JonDior
Songwriter
Javi
Javi
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
JonDior
JonDior
Producer
Javi
Javi
Producer
Glxdie
Glxdie
Mixing Engineer
Kevin Peterson
Kevin Peterson
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

(Jondior) Shorty got wap like Fetty Breadwinner, I love to get bready They know my bop, Mr. Everything Deady And shots to the eye, now he lookin' like Fetty, bitch I be geekin', I tote on a what? Shorty a thottie, she don't give a fuck She be tweakin', she shakin' her butt And that boy is a cheetah, the way that he run He dumb, he a bot Bitch on my body, she totin' my gun You run, don't stop You feelin' hot, you get sent to the sun Grah, is you dumb? I'm with the fours, and they ready to dump (straight away) He can't run, it's a switch on my gun (they did) PTSD from the shit that I done (grah, grah, grah) Told-told Dre put the beam on a drum Like if he slippin', we fill him with shots (damn, damn, damn) He got flocked now he poppin' his bottle (bottle) Big 41 got the city on hots Like one-on-one, lil' bitch I'm on hots And on bro, if I spot a opp, bet he get shot W-We in the party, we 41 boppin', nigga (boom, boom, boom) See a opp, he get parked, no lot (boom) Like shoot a nigga, do it with precision I got like four bitches, I'm feeling imprisoned (imprisoned) Cartier glasses, 2020 vision (yes, yes) Like, I don't politic with politicians I'm in the club, do not pass me a shot, I already been sippin' Pay the price or you gettin' evicted Chops in the spot, so we gotta dismiss 'em Grah, grah, grah-grah 40 gon' pop too loud, like fuck, I cannot listen Like Casa hittin', might fuck up my vision I don't give a fuck, I might it up and click it (damn) Shorty got wap like Fetty Breadwinner, I love to get bready They know my bop, Mr. Everything Deady And shots to the eye, now he lookin' like Fetty, bitch I be geekin', I tote on a what? Shorty a thottie, she don't give a fuck She be tweakin', she shakin' her butt And that boy is a cheetah, the way that he run He dumb, he a bot Bitch on my body, she totin' my gun You run, don't stop You feelin' hot, you get sent to the sun Like, I can't fall, I'm not used to the love (my love) Sippin' wocky, this shit got me weak (weak) I'm-I'm feelin' faint, and my body is leanin' (leanin') Seein' demons, I thought I was dreamin', grah Like-like how you love me? You don't know the meanin' (bitch) She don't love me, she wanna be rich, like I cannot stress on a bitch (bitch like, what?) Too-too deep, me and Sheik in they projects (projects) I'm a rapper, but still in the field (I did) I-I gotta stand on the shit that I started (started) If you with me, you better be real (like what?) Smoke-smoke za, I can't feel (like what?) Like 30 on me, I can't get killed (grah, grah, grah) I'm off a 30 clutching on my 30 (30) Too many thooties, don't know who to pick Like yeah, I'm sippin' on Sprite, but it's dirty (dirty) Youngest stepper, they don't want me to win (don't want me to win) Shorty playin', I'm texting her friend She can tell I'm the shit, and she see that I'm lit Like, everywhere I'ma go with a grip Damn, I don't know when this shit gonna end
Writer(s): Henry Fasheun, Zaire Rivera, Jennifer Akpofure, Liam Mathey, Jonathan Aldana Giraldo Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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