Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Future
Future
Vocals
Juice WRLD
Juice WRLD
Vocals
Rosie Lowe
Rosie Lowe
Sampled Artist
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Nayvadius Wilburn
Nayvadius Wilburn
Songwriter
Jarad Higgins
Jarad Higgins
Songwriter
Wesley Glass
Wesley Glass
Songwriter
Rosie Lowe
Rosie Lowe
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Wheezy
Wheezy
Producer
Alex Tumay
Alex Tumay
Mixing Engineer
Joe LaPorta
Joe LaPorta
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

Don't let these bitches get in your head (Wheezy outta here) Fallin' out of love with Xanax Livin' my life on the edge I'm sacrificin' everything I did Oxy, I don't need alcohol I pop Rolexes like they Adderall Continuin', deliverin' the substance I'ma be there for my bros, one call Don't you try and judge us like you ain't got no flaws Don't you try and judge us Don't you try and trust us Let it go down, down, down ain't no issue She gon' cry, cry, cry, she will miss you Uh, she wanna kick it, she know judo I cannot save her, I'm not a hero Bank account commas and zeros Gucci, Amiri, my apparel Keep a pistol, let it hit ya, I'm official Fuck that bitch I will not kiss her, I won't miss her Make her cry, cry, cry, she need a tissue I get high, high, high, and have no issue VVS on me, no igloo You say you fly, but we been flew Ahh, ahh, ah I told that bitch it ain't no way around it like Future Come to find out, yesterday she was fuckin' on Future Stripper bitches callin' on my phone They wanna know when I'll show up to the club 'Cause I throw hunnids in that bitch, ain't throwin' dubs Spend a check, oh, money love Designer clothes, designer hoes, designer drugs 50 K for the Birkin bag, did it just because I'm in Chicago where they trill, trill, trill, trill No Limit gang with me, yeah they real, real, real, real FBG up in here, Future real, real, real, real Perky pop, love the pills, mix it with Klonopins Yeah, draped up when I walk into the club Hundred racks in my pockets, and them Bloods Lot of Crip niggas spillin' lotta blood Got a million dollar ice just because Exotic hoes, exotic clothes, exotic drugs All hundreds in my bank, ain't find a dub Blow some gas on that nigga, he a dub Untamed make me feel, feel, feel, feel No Limit gang whippin' that real, real, real, real Rest in peace, you either kill or be killed Bullets flyin', flyin', flyin', flyin' Homicide-cide-cide Let's get high, high, high Make her cry, cry, cry, she need tissue I get high, high, high and have no issues VVS on me, no igloo You say you fly, we been flew, ahh-ahh You can see what we done been through You didn't see the road we took, it was grimy You don't know the way we been through Bullets, fly, fly, fly Make you cry, cry, cry
Writer(s): Nayvadius Wilburn, Rosie Lowe, Wesley Tyler Glass, Jared Higgins Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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