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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
YG
YG
Performer
Tyga
Tyga
Performer
21 Savage
21 Savage
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Keenon Jackson
Keenon Jackson
Composer
Samuel Ahana
Samuel Ahana
Composer
Tahj Morgan
Tahj Morgan
Composer
Randy Holmes
Randy Holmes
Composer
Bigram Zayas
Bigram Zayas
Composer
Xavier Martínez
Xavier Martínez
Composer
Roderick Pusharod Bullock
Roderick Pusharod Bullock
Composer
Michael Stevenson
Michael Stevenson
Composer
Bianca Landrau
Bianca Landrau
Lyrics
Enoch Harris
Enoch Harris
Composer
Shéyaa Bin Abraham-Joseph
Shéyaa Bin Abraham-Joseph
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Swish
Swish
Producer
jetsonmade
jetsonmade
Producer
Bandz
Bandz
Producer
DVLP
DVLP
Producer
Xay
Xay
Producer
Patrik Plummer
Patrik Plummer
Recording Engineer
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Mixing Engineer
Cyrus "NOIS" Taghipour
Cyrus "NOIS" Taghipour
Mixing Engineer
Curtis "Sircut" Bye
Curtis "Sircut" Bye
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Brandon Blatz
Brandon Blatz
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Nicolas De Porcel
Nicolas De Porcel
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

Run them bands up, run them bands up Run them bands up, run them bands up Run them bands up, run them bands up Spend it 'cause I'm up, nigga, and what? (And what?) Run them bands up, run them bands up Run them bands up, run them bands up Run them bands up, run them bands up Thought we was fallin' off, you can't stand us (stand us) Whole lotta bands in my left hand The pistol got a drum, I'm the band man Whole lotta drink in my right hand Long live Slim 400, the hype man (hype man) She know I got paper, she wanna get a issue Over a bitch, never act sentimental Drop-top coupe, this is not a rental Pull up, F8 Ferrari, fuck up they mental Gentle as you open the door Threw a hunnid in the club, put this shit on Forbes Beef in the streets come with these whores The pussy so good, it be startin' wars Oh, oh-oh, oh, man, oh, damn In Glock I trust 'cause it don't jam I'm tryna run the bag up, she wanna slow dance I'm tryna toot it and boot it, she wanna romance Run them bands up, run them bands up Run them bands up, run them bands up Run them bands up, run them bands up Spend it 'cause I'm up, nigga, and what? (And what?) Run them bands up, run them bands up Run them bands up, run them bands up Run them bands up, run them bands up Thought we was fallin' off, you can't stand us (stand us) Big digits, Chrome Heart, bitch spend it Get with it, if I rapped it, I lived it Big digits, whole lotta pretty bitches No cap, not a snapback or a fitted (ah) How they do, mo'fucker? It's the big homie Different bitch every night, I am never lonely Said she had a OnlyFans, but she never told me Said she a real squirter, now she gotta show me Yeah, on demon, I don't play fair (no) Get money in the safe, sex in the air (air) Yeah, jumpin' off a bean for me everywhere (where) I be livin' in the bank, you ain't ever there (never) Clap, clap that ass like it's automatic ('matic) I'm obsessed with that ass, I'm an ass fanatic ('natic) Put the pump to his lip like an asthmatic And we still flipped the work like an acrobatic (flip it) Yeah, play time, now it's break time Yeah, too busy but I make time Yeah, four hunnid with them gang signs If we talkin' millionaires, bitch, I'm the front line (ah) Run them bands up, run them bands up (bitch) Run them bands up, run them bands up Run them bands up, run them bands up Spend it 'cause I'm up, nigga, and what? (And what?) Run them bands up, run them bands up Run them bands up, run them bands up Run them bands up, run them bands up Thought we was fallin' off, you can't stand us (stand us) Big digits, Chrome Heart, big spendin' (uh) Get with it, if I rapped it, I lived it (BIA, BIA) Big digits, whole lotta pretty bitches (uh) No cap, not a snapback or a fitted I run it up 'til I'm tired (yes) Went back to sleep and woke up to a wire Niggas inquire who been fuckin' me prior Bitch, I been hot, Richard Pryor, uh It's gettin' hot in here Ain't no talent, drop a tear 'cause I hope in Lears (Skrrt) I took the P.S. lounge 'cause they stop and stare I know these white folks wonder how we got in here, uh Took the club and the kitchen from the backdoor It's the only time that I ever get backdoored (rrah) Nigga, the fuck you think I rap for? Nigga, you could see it on my dashboard Plain Jane Rollie cost a whole half a ticket (facts) Worth eight figures, ain't no such thing as trickin' (21) Should've been a farmer, I be chasin' after chicken (21) Focused on the money, that shit come along with bitches (21) No love for the opps, they get knocked out their britches (pussy) Jump inside the box, spin the block 'til I'm dizzy (pussy) Fat transfer, if you ain't right, I get your titties (fat) Fuck me in the car, I'm in a rush, you know I'm busy (21) Drove out, fuck a superstar and made that bitch part of my rollout Rappin' all that tough shit done got his ass hoe'd out You can't buy no ticket to my show 'cause they be sold out Security wanna search us at the door when we got poles out (21) Bad bitch got her ass out You ain't really, "Gang, gang," nigga, you a mascot (pussy) Check my bank statements, you a pass out You need people like me to point and call the bad guy
Writer(s): Keenon Daquan Ray Jackson, Bigram John Zayas, Bianca Landrau, Samuel Ahana, Tahj Morgan, Enoch Rich Iii Harris, Randy Holmes, Micheal Ray Stevenson, Xavier Martinez, Sheyaa Bin Abraham-joseph, Roderick Bullock Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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