Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
B.G.
B.G.
Vocals
Mike WiLL Made-It
Mike WiLL Made-It
Vocals
Gucci Mane
Gucci Mane
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Christopher Dorsey
Christopher Dorsey
Songwriter
Michael L. Williams II
Michael L. Williams II
Songwriter
Radric Delantic Davis
Radric Delantic Davis
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Mike WiLL Made-It
Mike WiLL Made-It
Producer
Dillon Brophy
Dillon Brophy
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Jess Jackson
Jess Jackson
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

(Mike WiLL Made-It) Thinking 'bout them cold nights (cold), sleeping in that cold cell Eating nothin' but cold food, they let me out that cold jail (damn) Soon as I touched down, I had to give them folks hell (yeah) Took off all them jail clothes, showered off that jail smell (yeah) I don't need no wishing well, I'ma buy my bitch Chanel Keep it real, she paid the bail, kept it player, no kiss and tell Shout out to the cartel, fuck the opps, they called 12 I been trapping since 12, selling nicks and bricks and bales Narcotics and plenty sales, glass bowls and pocket scales (skrrt) Burglar bars and cameras before my life was glamorous (huh) I shine like a camera (shine), I kicked all the amateurs 5.56s damage ya (hot), we don't tote no Derringer (hot) Go check the thermometer (hot), we bloodied the furniture We hit at his momma house, I heard it woke his momma up (mom) I'ma keep the chopper tucked, run up if you think you tough (cha-cha) Playing with all that funny stuff, they found his body in the bluff (ha) Poker face, we never bluff Play with them, don't play with us (nah) We got toys like Toys R Us, the chop's so long it's folding up (folding up) Where my boys? They rolling up They look young, they old enough Hell no, they ain't old as us But try us, they gon' spray your bus (grah) Thinking 'bout them cold nights, sleeping in that cold cell Eating nothin' but cold food, they let me out that cold jail (yeah) Soon as I touched down, I had to give them folks hell (what's up, Wop?) Took off all them jail clothes, showered off that jail smell (look, look, look) Bounced out of the BOP, still toting that stick on me (I got it) All these hoes tryna fuck (what?), I ain't giving no dick for free (at all) All these people want a show (what?), need that bag COD (I need it) All these lil' slick posts, say that shit to me in the streets Smashed all my old beef, smashed out my old teeth One by one, I'm coming to collect from everybody that owe me (everybody) Real killers, they know me (they know), real street niggas mold me Better be able to see your hands you ever try to approach me (let me see, nigga) Feds got me burnt out, still a little institutionalized (damn) Nigga, that shit was real, seen niggas stabbed to death right before my eyes B-Gizzle and Gucci Mane, you know this shit gon' ride Free my guys and the pole lock, fed niggas might start a riot Thinking 'bout them cold nights, sleeping in that cold cell (if it's up, it's stuck, nigga) Eating nothin' but cold food, they let me out that cold jail (they can't kick 'em up, nigga) Soon as I touched down, I had to give them folks hell (if it's up, it's stuck, nigga) Took off all them jail clothes, showered off that jail smell (they can't kick 'em up, nigga) Mike WiLL, B-Gizzle, Gucci Mane This what the streets wanted to hear This shit too real
Writer(s): Radric Delantic Davis, Christopher Noel Dorsey, Michael Len Li Williams Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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