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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Future
Future
Vocals
Babyface Ray
Babyface Ray
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Nayvadius Wilburn
Nayvadius Wilburn
Songwriter
Marcellus Register
Marcellus Register
Songwriter
Jacob Canady
Jacob Canady
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
ATL Jacob
ATL Jacob
Producer
Bryan Anzel
Bryan Anzel
Recording Engineer
Ethan Stevens
Ethan Stevens
Mixing Engineer
Joe LaPorta
Joe LaPorta
Mastering Engineer
Eric Manco
Eric Manco
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

Yeah, Pluto ATL Jacob, ATL Jacob I'm cut off from a different cloth from niggas, that's a Fendi fact, yeah And I'm strapped up with that mini-MAC, yeah, yeah Fuckin' up a ch-in-eck, I'm already millennium Takin' pics with junkies, and I'm ridin' 'round with Eminem It's some robbers and killers 'round here, that's where I'm at They make drug deals, pop pills, that's where I'm at They got dog food 'round here, that's where I'm at I'm the king of the trenches, no security guards (yeah, yeah, yeah) We get triple in your town, nigga, that's where I'm at Fuck around and grab a crib, shit, I'm never comin' back (mm-hmm) It's a ruler on the glizzy, bag me up when I laugh Man, these internet niggas never fucked with a bag (nah) Eleven in my pants, I can't even get it out I ain't had shit, ask me how I'm livin' now (ask me) I done, done, done it all, did a lot (did it all, nigga) Watch him run, run just like Ricky, spin the block (shit) Fuck it, niggas spin again (ooh) Fear of God on me, I don't fear a man (fear of God) Lot of niggas fumin', they get up there on that stand (lot of niggas fumin') I been livin' toxic, fuck one bitch then fuck her friends I'm cut off from a different cloth from niggas, that's a Fendi fact, yeah And I'm strapped up with that mini-MAC, yeah, yeah Fuckin' up a ch-in-eck, I'm already millennium Takin' pics with junkies, and I'm ridin' 'round with Eminem It's some robbers and killers 'round here, that's where I'm at They make drug deals, pop pills, that's where I'm at They got dog food 'round here, that's where I'm at I'm the king of the trenches, no security guard Big barbarian, nigga, just check my body weight I get first stab at these bitches in and out of state Ain't trippin' off no twat that I made very important They launderin', they prayin' on you, they land on you, extortion Good thing I was known, finesse before I had anything Good thing, I never played with sake, I played magazine Posted on the block when the sunlight was up, yeah Hundred stacks of hard, they got my gun in the cut Fendi on my body, garment lookin' like a ninja Play me like I'm Urkel, bitch, you know I'm 'bout to suspend her I hold out my arm, you could tell I'm a winner 'Posed to live in Vietnam, I'm with all the hitters I'm cut off from a different cloth from niggas, that's a Fendi fact, yeah And I'm strapped up with that mini-MAC, yeah, yeah Fuckin' up a ch-in-eck, I'm already millennium Takin' pics with junkies, and I'm ridin' 'round with Eminem It's some robbers and killers 'round here, that's where I'm at They make drug deals, pop pills, that's where I'm at They got dog food 'round here, that's where I'm at I'm the king of the trenches, no security guard It's some robbers and killers 'round here, that's where I'm at They make drug deals, pop pills, that's where I'm at They got dog food 'round here, that's where I'm at That's where I'm at
Writer(s): Nayvadius Wilburn, Jacob Atl Jacob Canady, Marcellus Rayvon Register Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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