Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Trippie Redd
Trippie Redd
Vocals
Future
Future
Vocals
Lil Baby
Lil Baby
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Cas van der Heijden
Cas van der Heijden
Songwriter
Hunter Roberts
Hunter Roberts
Songwriter
Michael Lamar White II
Michael Lamar White II
Songwriter
Nayvadius Wilburn
Nayvadius Wilburn
Songwriter
Peter Jideonwo
Peter Jideonwo
Songwriter
Dominique Jones
Dominique Jones
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Hunter Roberts
Hunter Roberts
Producer
Igor Mamet
Igor Mamet
Mixing Engineer
Bacon and Popcorn
Bacon and Popcorn
Producer
Loesoe
Loesoe
Producer

Lyrics

Austin, what it is I want is your blood Fully loaded (Loesoe going crazy) Fully loaded, fully loaded Fully loaded, fully loaded Fully loaded, fully loaded Fully loaded, fully loaded Fully loaded chopper, yeah, that bitch'll leave a stain Got a fully loaded chopper and the bullets say your name On that fuck shit, all the opps that I overcame Know we bust shit, fully loaded, hit 'em in the brain All that tough shit, end your ass and put you in the grave Mask up, bitch, and we turnt like we at a rage All black whip, all black fit, Bruce Wayne OFF-WHITE on my bitch and my Richard Mille plain Oh shit, they say we insane (shit) Oh shit, they onе in the same (shit) Oh shit, look at how far we camе (buh) Oh shit, fully loaded (brrt) Fully loaded, fully loaded Fully loaded, fully loaded Fully loaded, fully loaded Fully loaded, fully loaded If I ain't had shit, I still could fuck bad bitches What it sound like? Ferrari comin' through the trenches Where that Hellcat, where that 'Hawk, where that Demon at? If I'm outta there, there gon' be blood where the scene at Young millionaires with some goons and they fiendin' Poppin' up, poppin' up, Cubans on Fiji Rack em, stack 'em up, hit 'em up, squeeze it Went berserk, went to work, sent a nigga to Jesus If you ain't gang-gang, you can't hang and I mean it Ain't no way in Hell we goin' anywhere without a cutter (cutter) Put that on my, uh, and I'm live from the gutter (gutter) Posted up with shooters, treatin' 'em like twin brothers (shooters) Fully loaded, fully loaded Fully loaded, fully loaded Fully loaded, fully loaded Fully loaded, fully loaded Fully loaded clip, fully loaded clip Just got off the plane, we finna take a trip Middle fingers up, middle fingers up Me and drugs got a relationship I done took too much, I think the walls tryna move Lit up St. Barts, I'm on the yacht, it look like a cruise ship Middle of the projects, got a child, look like a poohstick They was actin' stop me on the sideline, they ain't doin' shit I'm just tryna vibe here, go to night when that shroom hit Why you tellin' lies? You know that you a bitch Mm, mm, she want another piece Ooh, ooh, she want another piece Fully loaded, fully loaded Fully loaded, fully loaded Fully loaded, fully loaded Fully loaded, fully loaded
Writer(s): Nayvadius Wilburn, Dominique Jones, Igor Mamet, Peter Jideonwo, Cas Van Der Heijden, Michael Lamar White Ii, Hunter Roberts Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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