Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
YG
YG
Vocals
Mozzy
Mozzy
Vocals
D3szn
D3szn
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Terrace Martin
Terrace Martin
Songwriter
Keenon Jackson
Keenon Jackson
Songwriter
Mitchell Pennell
Mitchell Pennell
Songwriter
Glenstine Rodney
Glenstine Rodney
Songwriter
Timothy Cornell Patterson
Timothy Cornell Patterson
Songwriter
Terry Watson
Terry Watson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Tee-WaTT
Tee-WaTT
Producer
MixMP
MixMP
Producer
Terrace Martin
Terrace Martin
Producer
Ambiance Sound
Ambiance Sound
Producer
Reecebeats
Reecebeats
Co-Producer
DJ Vision
DJ Vision
Co-Producer
Patrik Ehrenblad-Plummer
Patrik Ehrenblad-Plummer
Recording Engineer
Piéce Eatah
Piéce Eatah
Recording Engineer
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Mixing Engineer
Brandon Blatz
Brandon Blatz
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Curtis "Sircut" Bye
Curtis "Sircut" Bye
Mixing Engineer
Nicolas De Porcel
Nicolas De Porcel
Mastering Engineer
Demitrius Lewis II
Demitrius Lewis II
Assistant Mastering Engineer
Cyrus Massoud Taghipour
Cyrus Massoud Taghipour
Mixing Engineer
Hector Castro
Hector Castro
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

Welcome to the mind of a motherfuckin' maniac Pray for me y'all, uh Stick up, stick up, stick up, stick up This for all my broke, real niggas Who squeeze triggers, but they don't pay you to be active Peep game, I'ma teach you how to rob a rapper Catch a nigga lackin', he slackin' on IG live He gon' show his whereabouts on accident, he be high He gon' show the jewels he wearin' and the car that he drive Stupid nigga showed the same location three times And it seem like every Friday after eight He flex Crustacean menus, he like to date Sit it out in the front catch, him at the valet Never mind, it's Beverly Hills, you don't wanna catch no case Scratch that, bick back, he gon' slip up again Gotta make it count, so you gotta score to win Don't get frustrated, it's complicated, he always with his friends Look, there he go, by himself, slippin', he in that Benz (nigga, I caught you, you bitch-ass nigga) I could teach you how to rob a rapper I could teach you how to rob I could teach you how to rob a rapper I could teach you how to rob I could teach you how to rob a rapper I could teach you how to rob I could teach you how to rob a rapper I could teach you how to rob Aye, we gon' use a dummy page to hit his management "I'ma need your artist on my album, what's the damages?" I got the cameraman with me, let's shoot a movie too Before I hung up on homie, told him, "It's bulletproof" They on the way, call the gang and put 'em on the play That watch alone, without the stones will go for 40K Slide luxury under with Minnesota plates Youngin' in the back lookin' sketchy, he never show his face There they go in that 'Burban, let 'em through the the gate Finna bounce out on him, 'til I told him, "Wait" We gon' let him get bomfortable 'fore we strip his ass Nah, never mind, nigga, let's get this bag, what's happenin'? Run them pieces concurrent, lil' nigga, gimme that Or you gon' have to eat this fifty pack, yeah Fuck the Cuban, they callin' to get the tennis back Already sold it, ain't no gettin' it back, ah I could teach you how to rob a rapper I could teach you how to rob I could teach you how to rob a rapper I could teach you how to rob I could teach you how to rob a rapper I could teach you how to rob I could teach you how to rob a rapper I could teach you how to rob (ayy, ayy, let me get Blood) These rappers wanna come to the bricks and flash chips In the hood, we was structured for robbin' and field trips It was a Friday, the perfect time to hit a lick You tryna use the hood for clout, whole time we plottin' on your shit I see 'em pull up, I chuck the hood up, you know you good, blood Sic the homegirls on 'em, nigga, make 'em think it's hood love And he ain't bang the gang, so you know that it's a stick up You better pay the homies for you try to come flick up Okay, it's time to make a move on this nigga Give me all your shit or, bitch, I'm pullin' the trigger I need that chain, the watch, and all the cash you got Don't be thinkin' shit sweet when you pull up on my block Took the jewelry to the plaza, turned the jewels to some guap I could teach you how to rob, I could teach you how to flock This Bounty Hunter Watts and we ain't givin' no passes If he move funny, better blast it (blast it) I could teach you how to rob a rapper I could teach you how to rob I could teach you how to rob a rapper I could teach you how to rob I could teach you how to rob a rapper I could teach you how to rob I could teach you how to rob a rapper I could teach you how to rob
Writer(s): Keenon Daquan Ray Jackson, Terrace Jahmal Martin, Glenstine Iii Rodney, Timothy Cornell Patterson, Ambiance Sound, Mitchell Pennell, Terry Kevontay Watson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out