Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Xavier Lopez
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
ss3bby
Producer
SOJA
Producer
Lyrics
Oh, he talkin hot, pull up on 'em, and he running
Evil smirk up on my face, you know I'm up to somethin'
Yeah, I got it on me, I'ma up it, and I'm bussin'
Yeah, my **** ksuuvi off a Perc', and he buggin' (Yo, Ren', stop playing with these ****, man)
See that shit up on ya shoes, I spent on my drank
You see that shit you rap about, I really got it on my waist
Never love a bitch, finna get it tatted on my face
Talkin'—
(Yo, Ren', what the fuck we doin'?)
Walk up in the store and all these bitches tryna love me
Walk up in the club, and all these bitches tryna fuck me
All I do is make music, and I skate, boy, I love it
Walk up in this bitch with two poles, and I'm like "Fuck it"
This bitch is like "Oh that's Xav, I wanna fuck him"
Walk into the function with the fake, yeah, McLovin
Oh yeah, I got ZAY to my right, boy, don't bug him
All these **** say they gettin' money, boy, that's nothing
Oh, that **** talkin'? Uh—
Oh, he talkin hot, pull up on 'em, and he running
Evil smirk up on my face, you know I'm up to somethin'
Yeah, I got it on me, I'ma up it, and I'm bussin'
Yeah, my **** ksuuvi off a Perc', and he buggin'
Yeah, he buggin', if you think you finna—
Oh, you think you finna get a feat for free, well, boy, you buggin'
Yeah, lil shawty' on my body, she with me and bitch we fuckin'
If I got the pole on me then I'ma up it
Up it on ****, hell nah, it's no discussion, uh
Yeah, you know I get the bag, and then I run it up
Yeah, you know I get the bag, and then I run it up
Get the bag, bitch, I run it
Uh, get the bag, bitch, I run it, ayy
Throw it up, you see all the bitches grab the cake
I got yo' bitch in my pants tryin' grab the snake
**** talkin' shit, I hit the whip, and then I grab the drake
I'ma cock it back, and flip gang like a milkcrate
See that shit up on ya shoes, I spent it on my drank
You see that shit you rap about, I really got it on my waist
Never love a bitch, finna get it tatted on my face
Talkin' down on the clip, put a bullet in ya brain
Bitch, we in the city droppin' fours in the fuckin' Range
Shout out tenkay, drugs fuckin' up my fuckin' brain
I feel like detergent, ****, you a fuckin' stain
You know I be swervin', can't stay in my damn lane
Bitches call me Papi in the party, poppin' champagne
Rich **** to the right, and killers to my left
I got steez in my soul, I'ma swag 'til my death
Talk down, up a 556 to ya chest (Evil Empire, laughin' all the way to the the bank, hahahahahahaha)
Walk up in the store and all these bitches tryna love me
Walk up in the club, and all these bitches tryna fuck me
All I do is make music, and I skate, boy, I love it
Walk up in this bitch with two poles, and I'm like "Fuck it"
This bitch is like "Oh that's Xav, I wanna fuck him" (This is a Binscoring exclusive)
Walk into the function with the fake, yeah, McLovin
Oh yeah, I got ZAY to my right, boy, don't bug him
All these **** say they gettin'—
Written by: Xavier Lopez
