Music Video

WHERE THE PARTY AT? (with Duke Deuce)
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Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Mike Dimes
Mike Dimes
Vocals
Duke Deuce
Duke Deuce
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Michael Goode Jr.
Michael Goode Jr.
Songwriter
Ryder Johnson
Ryder Johnson
Songwriter
Campbell Rolston-Clemmer
Campbell Rolston-Clemmer
Songwriter
michael romito
michael romito
Songwriter
John Carolus
John Carolus
Songwriter
Danny Lee Snodgrass, Jr.
Danny Lee Snodgrass, Jr.
Songwriter
Patavious Isom
Patavious Isom
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Michael Goode Jr.
Michael Goode Jr.
Engineer
Spaceman
Spaceman
Producer
Ryder Johnson
Ryder Johnson
Producer
Census
Census
Producer
John Luther
John Luther
Producer
Taz Taylor
Taz Taylor
Producer
Eric "eQ" Morgenstern
Eric "eQ" Morgenstern
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

I got rips up in these Denim jeans like Got that bass, I never shot your man's, I gotta get paid Who is you askin' questions, second guessin'? You get shot, and we keep on blastin', fuckin' nasty Spent a cool couple racks to get me icy (icy) And I'm like, "Ooh, I see why they wanna fight me" Babygirl, you was just my hoe, you ain't my wifey In my world, I got lotta bitches wantin' Mike D (okay), here we go I'ma spend a couple hunnid bucks to get Camp Billy up (on gang) I'm fuckin' up the industry, ten mill' without a dealie, bruh Lately, I been sober, I ain't tryna fuck the vision up (nah) So money is the mission, the respect, I did not give a fuck Like, ooh, "Who this nigga, bruh?" Huh? Please, don't talk to me Ben Franklin call me Michael, you ain't him, call me properly Mucho dinero got me eatin' on steak and broccoli (on gang) Don't tell my homie about your music, that shit ain't knockin', G Mike Dimes turn a simple party to an anthem Ransom, niggas hear my shit and put they hands up Bands up, everything I say gon' get my bands up I get it crackin' off instrumentals in the stand, yeah Drug dealers, hoop ballers, pop singers, shot callers Where the party at? (Uh, ayy, ayy) Head knockers, pill poppers, showstoppers, real nigga Where the party at? Where the party at, nigga? Ayy Bitch, it ain't a party 'til white bitches flashin' their titties I'm crackin' up off that Red Bull with that Martell mixed up in it (With that Martell mixed up in it, what? Ayy) What? (Huh?) What? Got me moshin' on you bitches (mosh) (Security comin', calm down) Fuck security, bitch, we trippin' Tryna sleep up on the king, hoe I'm what the game been missin' (ayy, ayy) Most you rappers watchin' me They bite my style but never mention Hardest nigga out my city, but they sleep because I'm different And I'ma keep on stompin' on your bitches 'til they feel me (what?) Drug dealers, hoop ballers, pop singers, shot callers (What?) Where the party at? (Uh, where it's at? What?) Head knockers, pill poppers, showstoppers, real niggas (Huh) Where the party at? (Huh), where the party at, nigga? Where the party at? (Huh?) Where the party at? (What?) Where the party at? (Huh?) Where the party at? (What?) Where the party at? (Huh?) Where the party at? (What?) Where the party at? (What?) Bitch, where the party at? (Hoe) What the fuck?
Writer(s): Patavious Lushun Isom Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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