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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
King Von
King Von
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Dayvon Bennett
Dayvon Bennett
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Joe La Porta
Joe La Porta
Mastering Engineer
ATL Jacob
ATL Jacob
Producer
Mac Fly
Mac Fly
Producer

Lyrics

Von (Known to let that MAC fly just like my nigga, Doe, baow) In the streets, we play for keeps (we play for keeps) This chess, not checkers, lil' nigga, don't play with me (nah, nah) Around here, you gotta pay a fee (gotta pay your fee) Soon somebody die around here, they be blamin' me (who? Who?) See, you won't get the chance to breathe (uh) I hurt you, make you stay inside, a curfew (what? Huh?) I keep two straps like I'm Urkel (ATL Jacob, ATL Jacob) Play with Grandson, they gon' hurt you (boom, boom, boom) Shoot at the chest (boom), don't miss We want him stretched (uh-uh) He gone, nigga, who next? He drew a foul and got hit with the TEC (rrah, rrah) Think I'ma show my respect (uh-huh) Funeral, pull up with flowers and gat (what? Boom) His cousin and uncle got hit in the back (boom, boom) If we say it's war, then it's that (then it's that) Left my old hoe when I got me a new bitch (uh-huh) Thirty-thousand to the dentist, get my tooth fixed Niggas kept playin', ain't even wanna do this (uh-huh) But I do this, I pull up and I shoot shit (rrah, rrah) We hit up your car Tires flat, yo' ass ain't gettin' far Flex and you get robbed Make your wish, you ever seen a shooting star? But nah, you haven't (nah) You ain't even met your daddy (uh-uh) You ain't even got no credit, Lil' Boosie and Webbie (what?) King Von he a savage (huh, he a savage, damn) Damn, were my manners? (Where?) New crib came with cameras (huh?) Duck got nailed, no hammers (uh-huh) Fuck my opps, nigga, excuse my grammar Bathing Ape hoodie and the clip bananas, yeah (rrah, rrah) Duck your antennas (duck your shit) Got gifts like Santa (what? Huh?) I shoot like Tony Montana (boom, boom) No, they can't stand us Real niggas stand up (stand up, stand up) I got my bands up (bands up) Still'll make you put your hands up (grrah, grrah) Ooh, his shit, they ain't sayin' nothin' (what? Huh?) Don't miss We want him stretched (uh-uh, yeah) He gone, nigga, who next? (Boom, boom, boom) He drew a foul and got hit with the TEC (rrah, rrah) Think I'ma show my respect (uh-huh) Funeral, pull up with flowers and gat (what? Boom) His cousin and uncle got hit in the back (boom, boom) If we say it's war, then it's that (damn, gang)
Writer(s): King Von Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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