Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Lil Gotit
Lil Gotit
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Semaja Render
Semaja Render
Composer
Dominique' Jones
Dominique' Jones
Songwriter
Joel Banks
Joel Banks
Composer
Matthew Banks
Matthew Banks
Composer
Taylor Banks
Taylor Banks
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Bankroll Got It
Bankroll Got It
Producer

Lyrics

B-B-Bankroll Got It Uh D-D-D-Don't stop Gotit H-O-O-D (Huh), B-A-B-I-E-S (Baby) I'm the real Hood Baby (The real one), Bitch, it's tatted on my neck (Tatted) I laced it up (Uh) in my Nike shoes And ran up a check (Go get a check) Got monkey bullets in this TEC (Brr), and it's takin' off your neck (Gah) Shots in the middle, Might hit a flip (Boom), talkin' real crazy, he caught a dip Not your big booty bitch, you thought it wasn't real (Damn), Pussy tastin' like Candy, I caught it, that's facts (Let's go) Boy, make a movie, don't gimme no lip (No), Superstar status, got hoes in the VIP (Superstar status) Keep shit trill, boy, you ain't real, Everything goin' up like a motherfuckin' hill (D-D-D-Don't stop) Hit it from the front, then I'm grabbin' on her neck (Uh) Nutted on her face, yeah, Gotit left a mess (Uh) Knew she look shit, drip down to her chest (Uh, uh) Bitch, I want Ms, I ain't talkin' 'bout necks (Let's go) Do want kingpins, I don't do next (To what) They askin' who stay shit, come get stretched (Me) Too high, havin' Percocet, gon' balance it (Uh) Gotit bad, move out the hood to Buckhead (What) It's showreel, hoe, hit my phone, they broke (They up) What the hell, fat, geeked up, smokin' cookies What the hell, these niggas ain't nothin' but some rookies (Huh) They say I ain't a killer, lil' nigga, just push me (Woah) AMG been geeked up, it's pushin' (Skrt) Stickin' to the T, I ain't talkin' 'bout Pusha' Cut the cap talk, I'ma cut it with sugar (D-D-D-Don't stop) Smoke Backwoods, we don't want no Swishers (Ah) H-O-O-D (Huh), B-A-B-I-E-S (Baby) I'm the real Hood Baby (The real one), Bitch, it's tatted on my neck (Tatted) I laced it up (Uh) in my Nike shoes And ran up a check (Go get a check) Got monkey bullets in this TEC (Brr), and it's takin' off your neck (Gah) Shots in the middle, Might hit a flip (Boom), talkin' real crazy, he caught a dip Not your big booty bitch, you thought it wasn't real (Damn), Pussy tastin' like Candy, I caught it, that's facts (Let's go) Boy, make a movie, don't gimme no lip (No), Superstar status, got hoes in the VIP (Superstar status) Keep shit trill, boy, you ain't real, Everything goin' up like a motherfuckin' hill (Talk to 'em) He tried to run off, but the boy got caught (Brr) Pushed up where he stay, yeah, his block got chopped (Skrt) Ratatatat, make the boy walk it out (Ratatatat) He talk to the boys, cut his tongue out his mouth (Shh) Deebo, but we ain't talkin' Friday (Deebo) Hands down, our racks up, I been knocked him out Chanel shoes, I'm a tight jean-wearin' ass nigga (D-D-D-Don't stop) I fucked around and copped out Go rock out shows now (Rock) How many hoes now? How many fake ass niggas say they roll, yeah? But they told, yeah (Yeah) Gucci ain't racist, I still rock their clothes, yeah (Talk to 'em) Wrist on froze, yeah (Wrist) Petty, ayy, Gotit don't show my toes now (Petty, ayy) Show up and show out (Let's go) How many more mes? Bitch, I ain't green (Yeah) Leave you in the projects, yeah, that's me (Oh yeah) Bitch, I'm the baby, Hood Baby, yeah, the king (Huh) Rockstar Gotit, got cuts on my jeans (Huh) They bitch so lean, she pop her bean (Uh) How many haters this shit gon' bring? (Yeah) Shit, how many more niggas' act gon' change? (Talk to 'em) Bitch, I'll probably ever wear Chain-chain-chains, bitch (D-D-D-Don't stop) H-O-O-D (Huh), B-A-B-I-E-S (Baby) I'm the real Hood Baby (The real one), Bitch, it's tatted on my neck (Tatted) I laced it up (Uh) in my Nike shoes And ran up a check (Go get a check) Got monkey bullets in this TEC (Brr), and it's takin' off your neck (Gah) Shots in the middle, Might hit a flip (Boom), talkin' real crazy, he caught a dip Not your big booty bitch, you thought it wasn't real (Damn), Pussy tastin' like Candy, I caught it, that's facts (Let's go) Boy, make a movie, don't gimme no lip (No), Superstar status, got hoes in the VIP (Superstar status) Keep shit trill, boy, you ain't real, Everything goin' up like a motherfuckin' hill (D-D-D-Don't stop)
Writer(s): Semaja Z. Render, Taylor Banks, Matthew Banks, Joel Banks Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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