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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Chief Keef
Chief Keef
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Keith Cozart
Keith Cozart
Songwriter
Dwayne Richardson
Dwayne Richardson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
D. Rich
D. Rich
Producer

Lyrics

Sosa, baby No, I can't calm down, bitch I'm too turnt up Judge gon' give me life, foe 'nem Sittin' at a red light, pourin' this purp' up See the LVs on my boxers, while I'm liftin' my shirt up Cops tryna search us, hoes tryna twerk us Walk in with all this ice, did it on purpose Got spice like red hot, need to keep ya tail tucked Have folks nem deliver this to you, put it in ya mailbox Niggas be really knowin', bitches be really goin' Look up and the ceilin' gone, that ass I'm feelin' on Gimme a Christina Milian, I could pop me a wheelie on Bout to go get some more chains, like I ain't got enough jewelry on Went to the trap last night, and I looked up it was dawn Got a U-Haul backin' in, with equipment and more laundry You know we ain't really for none, all I know is get paper I know, and they owe me big favors Bitches XO me like weeknd, I'm somewhere out eating Stay yo ass in two feet, or go yo ass on the deep end Someone hand me an ashtray, that's my boys who passed away Keep my mouth laminated, 'til the day I'm eliminated No I can't calm down, bitch I'm too turnt up Judge gon' give me life, foe 'nem Sittin' at a red light, pourin' this purp' up See the LVs on my boxers, while I'm liftin' my shirt up Cops tryna search us, hoes tryna twerk us Walk in with all this ice, did it on purpose Got spice like red hot, need to keep ya tail tucked Have folks nem deliver this to you, put it in ya mailbox What's yo' address? where you live at? We ain't tryna hear that, you know I'm a real arse Know I gotta get cash, you know I want it real bad My young niggas run down on you, treat you like a lil' Bitches see the ice, they see the cars, they see the bands they in the mood They get in, into the spot, that's where the cars gon' take us to I need top, I told them bitches that like it was breaking news And you know I be about my chicken, bitch no Ramen noodles Jail cell not even bigger than my pantry We can't leave no trace I guess them gloves come in handy It's lovely now, bitches be loving me now, aye Had the bitch suckin' me up, she might end up shutting me down aye No I can't calm down, bitch I'm too turnt up Judge gon' give me life, foe 'nem Sittin' at a red light, pourin' this purp' up See the LVs on my boxers, while I'm liftin' my shirt up Cops tryna search us, hoes tryna twerk us Walk in with all this ice, did it on purpose Got spice like red hot, need to keep ya tail tucked Have folks nem deliver this to you, put it in ya mailbox (catch y'all, catch y'all)
Writer(s): Keith Cozart, Dwayne Richardson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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