Vídeo musical

Playboi Carti ft. Gunna - No Time (Lyrics) [Explicit]
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Créditos

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Playboi Carti
Playboi Carti
Vocals
Gunna
Gunna
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jordan Carter
Jordan Carter
Songwriter
D. Cannon
D. Cannon
Songwriter
Gunna
Gunna
Songwriter
Treshaun Beatz
Treshaun Beatz
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
AJRuinedMyRecord
AJRuinedMyRecord
Recording Engineer
D. Cannon
D. Cannon
Producer
Kesha Lee
Kesha Lee
Mixing Engineer
Michael Piroli
Michael Piroli
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Treshaun Beatz
Treshaun Beatz
Producer

Letras

Check it out Wake up in the mornin', know I gotta do this shit Ayy, let's do it (Cannon) Yeah Yeah Yeah-yeah, uh Yeah, uh, uh Yeah, uh, yeah We ain't got time I drop my demons off, yeah Clear my mind Ridin' 'round town with a bad ass bitch She a dime (hold up) All these niggas, they cappin' 'round here (yeah) They stay lyin' We ain't got time I drop my demons off, yeah Clear my mind Ridin' 'round town with a bad ass bitch (yeah) She a dime (hold up) All these niggas, they cappin' 'round here (yeah) They stay lyin' Four, five, six, seven bitches keep callin' my line (my line) You cap like Mitchell & Ness, lil' nigga, stop lyin' (no cap, uh) Chop that top on my Lam', I'm livin' my life (livin' my life, yeah) Chopped-up chicken and shrimp cut in my rice (uh) Spanish bitch call me papi, I can make her my wife (make her my wife) She want new Versace, put Medusa on her eyes (Medusa on her eyes) Me and Cash Carti got them sisters, 'bout to put 'em on a flight (put 'em on a flight) Diamonds in the Cartier lenses, you can see 'em in the night (see 'em in the night) Call Balmain, ask 'em why my jeans so tight? (Jeans so tight), uh Traffic in all lanes, I don't think you really wanna ride (really wanna ride) Young GunWun one up, you not my kind (not my kind) Five, six, seven, eight watches, I ain't wastin' my time (wastin' my time) We ain't got time I drop my demons off, yeah Clear my mind Ridin' 'round town with a bad ass bitch She a dime (hold up) All these niggas, they cappin' 'round here (yeah) They stay lyin' We ain't got time I drop my demons off, yeah Clear my mind Ridin' 'round town with a bad ass bitch (yeah) She a dime (hold up) All these niggas, they cappin' 'round here (yeah) They stay lyin' (what?) My bitch fine, huh You don't wanna lie, hol' up My bitch bitin', hol' up These niggas been bitin', yeah But my diamonds keep bitin', uh These hoes be bitin', hol' up These niggas be bitin', hol' up, hol' up, uh Bitch, I'm the bomb, yeah, Bin Laden Got a bitch hittin' the line right now, yeah Say she got molly, uh, yeah Sour, yeah, I don't do sour (nah, yeah) OG, you know me, yeah It's cold outside, I need a long sleeve, yeah Ballin' on your ho like Kobe (Kobe), uh (ballin') Dunkin' on your ho like no B (what? what?) Bald head like Ginóbili Piru, watch my nose bleed (what? what?) That boy dead (yeah) Arm and a leg, hol' up, yeah Head and chest (that boy dead) Turnin' your head (that boy dead) Take your bread (that boy dead) We ain't got time I drop my demons off, yeah Clear my mind Ridin' 'round town with a bad ass bitch She a dime (hold up) All these niggas, they cappin' 'round here (yeah) They stay lyin' We ain't got time I drop my demons off, yeah Clear my mind Ridin' 'round town with a bad ass bitch (yeah) She a dime (hold up) All these niggas, they cappin' 'round here They stay lyin'
Writer(s): Donald E. Cannon, Sergio Kitchens, Jordan Terrell Carter, Tjshan Stennett Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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