Musikvideo

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Trouble
Trouble
Vocals
Jeezy
Jeezy
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Papa Abdou Fall
Papa Abdou Fall
Songwriter
Jay Jenkins
Jay Jenkins
Songwriter
Mariel Orr
Mariel Orr
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Big Papito
Big Papito
Producer
Bradley "Dula" Post
Bradley "Dula" Post
Mixing Engineer
Glenn Schick
Glenn Schick
Mastering Engineer

Songtexte

Big Papito Hey No strings attached, okay Okay, Chanel put on yo' frames and on your back, okay Okay, don't go to looking strange when I go tat yo' face I don't look like that when You be asking me 'bout racks, okay (I don't look like that, don't look like that) Hop on this dick, just like a scooter Brand new whip, with old money, like my cougar Designer got that shit sittin' fat, is that Medusa? (Uh-huh) These niggas ain't real, I ain't bool with that I just might shoot ya I fuck with King and Dill for real, so free Bibby (free Bibby) I was gettin' some lip service, just like Gigi (just like Gigi, yeah) I remember a bitch curved me, then I had a three piece (had like three, yeah) Talking bout the same time, my future bright no TV (this ain't TV, yeah) Get off my dick bitch, damn hoe I gotta pee pee (I think I pee one time) I had a shootout, who pick the youngins up? That was Neenee (got a real bitch, one time) Keep gettin' this paper, I don't want you talking 'bout free me But a nigga tried, damn, guess you just got to free me If I'm hoppin' outside of a Phantom .40, inside of my hand Ballerinas on me keep on dancing Trappin' outside of Atlantic Send my lil' bitch to go grab it Gettin' to the money a habit She be ocean wet, she the Atlantic Got another hoe stuck on the campus She be mixing her drink with the Addy She be like, "Trouble come back with my panties" I just want the paper, baby swear I'm not a fan of that 'Cause then you gone want shit free And I gotta get my cheese It's different if you was my bish I'ma bless you, yes indeed Hey No strings attached, okay Okay, Chanel put on yo' frames and on your back, okay Okay, don't go to looking strange when I go tat yo' face I don't look like that when You be asking me 'bout racks, okay (I don't look like that, don't look like that) Hop on this dick, just like a scooter Brand new whip, with old money, like my cougar Designer got that shit sittin' fat, is that Medusa? (Uh-huh) These niggas ain't real, I ain't bool with that I just might shoot ya Plain Jane on my wrist a Hell Cat, okay Gas Kenmore Stove, pass me that Old Bay (damn) Rolls Truck on C's sit on that OJ (haha) If you ain't get no paper you ain't got no say (yeah) Call the sideline niggas 'cause we not gon' play (woah) We stand up guys 'cause we not gon' lay A bunch of S-Curl niggas how we not gon' spray? (Boom) Yeah, we saw who did it but we not gon' say Hoppin' up out of out of the Don (ayy) Boxes of Louis Vuitton (ayy) I put the ground on the map (ayy) That why they call me the Don (ayy) I put the light on the streets (ayy) That why they call me the GOAT (GOAT) If it's a hustler parade (ayy) They gotta make me a float (let's go) Tell 'em I said it I meant it and I quote it Put the city on the map and you know it Seven days out of the week wear black Seven days out of the week stay strapped (stay strapped) Top down ridin' down Old Nat Brave game big clip fall back First mill' I made that, no rap Put the trap on the map no cap Hey No strings attached, okay Okay, Chanel put on yo' frames and on your back, okay Okay, don't go to looking strange when I go tat yo' face I don't look like that when You be asking me 'bout racks, okay (I don't look like that, don't look like that) Hop on this dick, just like a scooter Brand new whip, with old money, like my cougar Designer got that shit sittin' fat, is that Medusa? (Uh-huh) These niggas ain't real, I ain't bool with that I just might shoot ya (let's go)
Writer(s): Jay Jenkins, Mariel Orr, Papa Fall Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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