Créditos

PERFORMING ARTISTS
King Von
King Von
Vocals
Hotboii
Hotboii
Vocals
Moneybagg Yo
Moneybagg Yo
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Dayvon Bennett
Dayvon Bennett
Songwriter
Demario White
Demario White
Songwriter
Javarri Walker
Javarri Walker
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Joe La Porta
Joe La Porta
Mastering Engineer
Chopsquad DJ
Chopsquad DJ
Producer

Letra

DJ on the beat so it's a banger I'm just tryna make it out of the streets now I'm just tryna make it through the week I'm just tryna make it out the streets now I'm just tryna make it through the week You know the trenches ain't no place for the weak now You gon' starve if your ass don't eat They hold you back, you can't make it to your peak now I swear to God, boy, your ass gon' see (Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh) Gotta stay strong 'cause my granny gettin' weak now I got that call, now a nigga can't sleep And I been stuck in Miami for a week now I'm like, "God, why You doin' this shit to me?" You cannot quit, you gotta get back on your feet now I'm tryna climb but this mountain lookin' steep And if you miss, I'll be there for the rebound, ooh I'm just tryna make it out the streets I'm just tryna make it out of the streets now I'm just tryna make it through the week I'm just tryna make it out the streets now I'm just tryna make it through the week You know the trenches ain't no place for the weak now You gon' starve if your ass don't eat They hold you back, you can't make it to your peak now I swear to God, boy, your ass gon' see (Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh) go (ooh) I done made somethin' out of nothin' (Nathan) Givenchy bubble coat puffin' (frozen) Sippin' a controlled substance ('Kesha) Half a milli', fill a duffy (easy) Roses red, hundreds blue (true) Drugged up to the moon (up there) Slow motion better than no motion (how?) Ferrari truck, vroom-vroom (skrr) Trenches in me even though I'm thankin' God I made it out (yeah) Millions in my bank account, still take a cup of noodles down (ha) Nigga make me mad enough, I'll drop a bag and paint the town (go) They been talkin' long enough Go tell 'em come and do somethin' now (get nervous now) Bagg I'm just tryna make it out of the streets now I'm just tryna make it through the week I'm just tryna make it out the streets now I'm just tryna make it through the week You know the trenches ain't no place for the weak now You gon' starve if your ass don't eat They hold you back, now you can't make it to your peak now I swear to God, boy, your ass gon' see (Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh) If you tryna make it through the week, keep for it When you in trenches, gotta sleep with the 40 Momma if you lose me to the streets then I failed you Almost lost me 'til that cell to lil' boy I used to sell to I jumped off the porch before this rap shit begun And I still think about poverty, I get racks to recall Runnin' through racks like Serena I just wanna pack out arena No, I don't lack, I keep gun I get back, I could be Von
Writer(s): Darrel Jackson, Demario Dewayne White Jr., Javarri Walker, Dayvon Bennett Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out