Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Kevin Gates
Kevin Gates
Lead Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kevin Gilyard
Kevin Gilyard
Songwriter
Adrian Bruesch
Adrian Bruesch
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Chris Athens
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer
Bobby Johnson
Bobby Johnson
Producer

Lyrics

RAPROCK LIT POP NEWS COUNTRY R&B HISTORY SPORTS SCREEN LAW TECH X META Sit DownKevin Gates Share I'm bout to tell you some shit. I ain't never told nobody You gon' see where the aggression come from You gon' see where all the pain, all the hatred come from You gon' see where all the betrayal come from Nigga get the dough nigga, fuck (I don't get tired) Fuck a meeting we about to have a sit down Wrap the phone up in plastic and stick it in the fridge They know where we are, but they don't know what we did Anything bout a mix-up, murder getting sent Gotta speak in code when you talking on the phone Sticking to the code, they'll listen to the song I told my team about manifestation People are basic they thought I was crazy Ball with the witchcraft, study every night Philosopher stone, I perform another rite Rite meaning ritual, created dry ice Hid in plain sight wear the suit and tie nice Mason mean more than a brick layer Salmonella moving chicken got my chick paid Poison that was giving, distributed in the streets Find another way to eat, I'mma quit slanging Bread Winner gang made niggas quit hanging Other side hate it when a nigga bang money Thumbing through the law books (And he know the law?) Sent a hit in Baton Rouge (And he getting off?) Bird-eye focus (Wonder what he saw?) Power in the [?] (Bullets in your car) You ain't want a [?] all you tried to pull it but you lost War never knew mercy Our Lady of the Lake won't receive you with open arms You in yellow tape Manuchi going stupid, he'll do it everyday Talking bout leaving your grandmother, and will do it in your face Shitting in the jack nigga you got do-do in your face What you doing? Don't you know it ain't no doing it with Gates? Peculiar, oolier, noodle your grape Lot of days spent in the cage, wasn't what you think Washing clothes with the toilet water, drinking out the sink Hard mat hurt your back when it's no option Everybody boxed in, trying to release toxins Fuck a meeting we about to have a sit down Not a part of this, pussy nigga can't sit 'round Bread Winner business, model bitches getting dicked down Get the phone back when they finish, get em' kicked out All in favor for a favor for a favor Any other matter we gon' bring it to the table Organization gotta have communication Full participation, Bread Winner's in the making Fuck a meeting we about to have a sit down Got the bread and basket then we split it with the clique now Bought a share together people feel like we the shit now Passing through your section I ain't showing no affection to a nigga or a bitch Take a whiff no you sick now Syrup, drinking out the bottle how I sip now Ride around the bottom with the tint down I'm a shooter, got a pistol with the dick out True story, what I rap about I lived out That's why I got a pistol with the dick out Fucked up feeling when you get it from the gutter Be the people in your own hood steady saying fuck ya Way a nigga living when you see me in the picture difficult to tell the difference in the season when I'm thugging Heart cold, long nose, stumping through the jungle Automatic that I'm packing, wearing jackets in the summer Body being healed, having trouble with my left foot Learned how to fight different, caught him with the left hook Really pushing D with the clip, cooking Ki's Many probably agree, on TV was the best look Anticipated launch or a lift-off Metaphor, going opposite of dick-soft Mind on the ticket, out the mud seen Nicki album cover would make the dick spit, but it's still soft Get out my cell when I shit, get lost I'll punch a nigga down when I'm pissed off Wanna wrestle, had to put him in a hip-toss Lot of rap niggas backwards, criss-cross Guess I never had swag Pants tight on your ass, matter fact while you at it, put on lip gloss Mind rambling, I guess it kinda slipped off When Drake and Rihanna's song "Take Care" playing tears running down my face I ain't playing, miss laying with my bitch having real-talks Laying in her lap with her fingers in my scalp, get to rubbing on my back till I slip off Affection ain't cheap, coming with cost Paying all the bills when the rent call Fucking with a NFL player when his check long Running back as if a running-back Hard to stomach that you let him fuck for nothing when you find out that the check gone Found a ex-NBA player knowing that's wrong Un-loyal you [?] you get stepped on Who your baby daddy? Picked me but you guessed wrong Your mother mad cause she couldn't pawn me Got it from the concrete Will stand up in your chest under everybody What you witnessing me getting richer failed to mention that I'm winning Same nigga that just slept on
Writer(s): Kevin Gilyard, Adrian Bruesch Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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