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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
ScHoolboy Q
ScHoolboy Q
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Quincy Hanley
Quincy Hanley
Songwriter
Mario Loving
Mario Loving
Songwriter
Nesbitt Wesonga
Nesbitt Wesonga
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Aria Angel Ali
Aria Angel Ali
Mixing Engineer
Cyrus Massoud Taghipour
Cyrus Massoud Taghipour
Mixing Engineer
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Mixing Engineer
James Hunt
James Hunt
Engineer
Mike Bozzi
Mike Bozzi
Mastering Engineer
Nez & Rio
Nez & Rio
Producer
Zachary Acosta
Zachary Acosta
Assistant Engineer

Lyrics

Glidin' through the air, ain't cautious, yeah, yeah, yeah Mind on the ground, ain't dreamin' Thing on my waist band leanin', yeah, yeah, yeah Hustle for a job, they still ain't called back Dope in the hood ain't movin' like that, uh Chain and your watch, I need all that, all that M's in the bank, I need all that So run it, mane Front row at the Grammys, I'm getting praises from Jay Fuck about this award, I'm happy he know my name Favorite rapper Nas been told me that I'm the best Had a couple sessions with Dre, knew I would win Alchemist my favorite producer, and he my friend All this love from the greats put my passion in pen Let me tell you 'bout this story, when Quincy died, it had started I left jail on house arrest and now ever since I've been starvin' You know pain on my mama's face when the opps can call me a loser Ain't a cheap shit, her son quit sports to become a Crip 'Nother single mother that failed, lost her son in the mix Workin' hard through all her problems, her son just couldn't be fixed Got off house arrest, sprinkled some orange in my blue shoes Nigga, ask Traffic, Baby Deuce, yeah, and T too Baby Love, Baby Spank, Big Spank, Big Fool The first Figg Side originals, you ain't gotta recruit Tony Smack, Floyd, G-Scrap, nigga, the main crew Flossy B was locked in, but was normal, he came through Nigga, 51st and Figg, on the corner, Mayhem was slaughtered months later, Like this shit ain't happened, I'm with my daughter At the laundromat, the shots rang off, I ducked to the back Wishin' for a strap but hear more fire from Tiny Rat Got the devil on my side while the Lord been pushin' me over I can finally understand why my uncles was never sober Deadbeat dad on the gas, that gas my motor Either grab the mic, nigga, grab the same pistola I can easily tell my story now and climb from this moment Just imagine Joy hopes if I died next mornin' Just imagine some of these rappers that ain't have Q The godfather of this street shit that gave y'all truth From Pac, Snoop, Kurupt, Daz, bitch, I'm déjà vu You see my homie in the hood 'cause I hate y'all too, ooh Death on my block, ain't worried Glide through the air, ain't cautious, yeah, yeah, yeah Mind on the ground, ain't dreamin' Thing on my waist band leanin', yeah, yeah, yeah Hustle for a job, they still ain't called back Dope in the hood, ain't movin' like that, uh Chain and your watch, I need all that, all that M's in the bank, I need all that, all that Ten freaky girls, need all that, all that Love from the world, need all that So run it, mane
Writer(s): Glenn Don Ii Standridge, Kelvin Wooten, Robert C. Jr. Ozuna, Nas, Raphael Saadiq, Kelis Rogers Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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