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Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Devin James Cheff
Songwriter
Daniel Mallari
Songwriter
Clyde Diza
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
BAPTIZED DEMONIST
Producer
Songtexte
I'm in the cut, got gold all on me them voices call me
Say my name, I'm sittin' shotty, swervin' in a Audi
Eyes low, I'm faded probably, gon' catch a case
I know that you ain't gon grip that Tommy
Fuck out my face, bitch
Pussy boy I'm not the one, you can't hit the blunt
Dirty bitch all on my dick, Ima beat it like a drum
Shoulda told ya don't fuck with my funds, bitch
Stuck in the mud you ain't going nowhere
You be with them plastic pieces, tryna flex
And you talking 'bout busting them guns
Yeah I'm sick and fucking tired of all these fuckboys tryna step to me
This my fucking lane, stay in class and take a fucking seat
Ima burn it down and I promise that I won't feel the heat
All these motherfuckers too pussy to fucking speak
Bitch I'm a young and dirty bastard, say those fucking last words
When you hear those motherfucking footsteps coming faster
I don't got no master, bitches call me caster
Your life is like my sign and I'm a motherfucking Cancer
911, watch me pull up on the block
Rolling static, hear me scraping run my shit I'm goin' off
Fuck a Lambo, fuck a opp, bitches mad I'm poppin' up
Pocket pussy, that's my phone
Yo bitch name up on the top
Yeah bitch, fuck with me, don't need no one but my team
All black coat it's FTP, catch me sliding to the scene
Hit my line, bitch wassup
Drop the addy, I'll pull up
Talking shit, you acting buck
Fuck your at bitch I square up, yeah wassup
Writer(s): Devin Cheff
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