Music Video

Pooh Shiesty - Monday to Sunday (feat. Lil Baby & Big30)
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Pooh Shiesty
Pooh Shiesty
Vocals
BIG30
BIG30
Vocals
Lil Baby
Lil Baby
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Donovan Hardie
Donovan Hardie
Songwriter
Lontrell Williams
Lontrell Williams
Songwriter
Peter Jung
Peter Jung
Songwriter
Dominique Jones
Dominique Jones
Songwriter
Rodney Wright, Jr.
Rodney Wright, Jr.
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Sky Walker
Sky Walker
Mixing Engineer
Beats Mode
Beats Mode
Producer
Pablomcr
Pablomcr
Producer

Lyrics

Pablo, you crazy for this one, haha Damn, you went Beats Mode on this one I turn Sonic for money, in the trap Monday to Sunday Clientele steady pumpin', Draco shells, that's what we dumpin' (brrt) I'm familiar with junkies, see my face and they come runnin' (yo) Two Instagram hoes from Compton (uh) I snatched 'em up out my comments (let's go) Them regular clips ain't enough (nope) If you tote a Glock, put a drum in it (brrt) Tryna catch up to me? There's gon' be a whole lotta runnin' (runnin') Eyes in my rearview mirror, I'm on point, won't go for nothin' (nope) Got 20 shots left up in the K, thought I shot the whole hundred Pay my tithes at church from hustlin' Even the pastor know we thuggin' (Amen) My lil' cousin shot my brother My brother got back, don't fuck with my cousin We got Glocks from 17 Shoot .33, we ain't goin' for nothin' (nothin') He tried to do what I do and I do what I do He really my baby boy (oh yeah) Kel Tec 223 with a hundred round drum, that's probably my favorite gun Everybody know how it go and seen bro On bro, on God, we ain't shootin' no ones Baby got mills, I come through, foreign Sell these bands if it ain't no tourin' Fresh white tee and some Off-White Jordans Trackhawk too loud, it don't need no horn Keep my weed, I need my drugs Got two chefs, gotta feed my son Soon as my feet hear the screech, I run Burn through weed every week, buy tons Nigga, I'ma speak, ain't bitin' my tongue Only one that's havin' that shit where I'm from Been runnin' shit ever since I was young Fuck all my teachers, said I wouldn't be nothin' I turn Sonic for money, in the trap Monday to Sunday Clientele steady pumpin', Draco shells, that's what we dumpin' (brrt) I'm familiar with junkies, see my face and they come runnin' (yo) Two Instagram hoes from Compton (uh) I snatched 'em up out my comments (let's go) Them regular clips ain't enough (nope) If you tote a Glock, put a drum in it (brrt) Tryna catch up to me? There's gon' be a whole lotta runnin' (runnin') Eyes in my rearview mirror, I'm on point, won't go for nothin' (nope) Got 20 shots left up in the K (brrt), thought I shot the whole hundred Draco knocked a chunk up out his back like he workin' for Apple Shie just poured a six up in the Sprite, I pour eight in the Snapple If I catch this opp all by myself, I'ma spray him without 'em Smoke back-to-back in the Audi, we got this whole party cloudy Rocked his ass to sleep, we slimed him out after we took him in He was clubbin' with the other side, we had to cook his ass We just shook they block in the FX but we had Texas tags Dropped his ass then hit his nigga up, so we burnt up the Jag And my hood treat me like Baby, four packs of Fentanyl on me Hate to serve your lil' old lady, but Granny keep callin' me Any chopper hits, 'bout eighty ten shot for who followin' me In these streets, it's eat or get ate Ain't no niggas swallowin' me, brr I turn Sonic for money, in the trap Monday to Sunday Clientele steady pumpin', Draco shells, that's what we dumpin' (brrt) I'm familiar with junkies, see my face and they come runnin' (yo) Two Instagram hoes from Compton (uh) I snatched 'em up out my comments (let's go) Them regular clips ain't enough (nope) If you tote a Glock, put a drum in it (brrt) Tryna catch up to me? There's gon' be a whole lotta runnin' (runnin') Eyes in my rearview mirror, I'm on point, won't go for nothin' (nope) Got 20 shots left up in the K, thought I shot the whole hundred (brrt) See something, I got to have it Tuck your chain before I grab it (ayy, tuck your chain, brrt) Spin this block in the Caddy, these F&N's black and plastic (brrt) Miss Gladys raised a savage (savage) They said I shoot like my daddy (my daddy) Spent 38 racks to fix my smile And won a Kardashian Ay, 38 racks to fix my grill, 15-80 a tooth (bling) Bitch talkin' 'bout us settling down But I'm fuckin' her crew (she know it) 3754, pockets full, choppers and residue (brrt) We certified like the truth, bitch, it's 30, Baby and Pooh (brrt)
Writer(s): Dominique Jones, Demario Dewayne White Jr., Lontrell Williams, Peter J. Jung, Donovan Hardie Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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