album cover
Control
595
Hip-Hop/Rap
Control fue lanzado el 7 de junio de 2024 por STB Entertainment como parte del álbum Time
album cover
ÁlbumTime
Fecha de lanzamiento7 de junio de 2024
Sello discográficoSTB Entertainment
Melodía
Nivel de sonidos acústicos
Valence
Capacidad para bailar
Energía
BPM83

Créditos

ARTISTAS INTÉRPRETES
The Game
The Game
Voces
COMPOSICIÓN Y LETRA
J. Taylor
J. Taylor
Autoría
PRODUCCIÓN E INGENIERÍA
The Game
The Game
Producción ejecutiva
Big Duke
Big Duke
Producción
Ryan Kane
Ryan Kane
Producción ejecutiva
Brian Sumner
Brian Sumner
Ingeniería de mezcla

Letra

[Chorus]
I don't care too much about no shit I can't control
I don't care too much about no jewelry and no clothes
I don't care too much about no cars or these hoes
I'm runnin' out of time, shit, my mama gettin' old
I don't care too much about no paper, my shit long
Money grow on trees, man, them trees gettin' blown
So I don't care too much about what other **** own
I done lost so many friends, feel like I'm out'chea on my own
[Verse 1]
Wake up in the mornin', take a shit and grab my pistol
Kiss that motherfucker on the lips like I miss you
Hate fallin' asleep 'cause usually that's when **** get you
Think I work for NASA, I'm surrounded by these missiles
I ain't been to Compton 'bout a week, I'm feelin' homesick
But Compton almost killed me, so I'm out in Calabasas 'til the casket
Mama proud her only son done got his own shit
Any **** violate the crib gon' get his dome split
My kids sleep well knowin' they daddy gon' die for 'em
We ain't got it and they want it, shit, I'm gon' try for 'em
Pissed they mama off, she call me, I'm gon' lie for 'em
No, we ain't together, but that condo in the sky for 'em
Fucked up the family unit, chasin' after hoes
I ain't really got no type, just come in here with pretty toes
Think I stopped by Roscoe's and get a number four
Sit where PnB Rock died, **** God bless your soul
[Chorus]
I don't care too much about no shit I can't control
I don't care too much about no jewelry and no clothes
I don't care too much about no cars or these hoes
I'm runnin' out of time, shit, my mama gettin' old
I don't care too much about no paper, my shit long
Money grow on trees, man, them trees gettin' blown
So I don't care too much about what other **** own
I done lost so many friends, feel like I'm out'chea on my own
[Verse 2]
Cheatin' on my bitch and I can't lie, I feel like shit
'Cause I'd rather die than see her ride another dick
Twenty missed calls, I gotta go, let's make it quick
Told her I was in the studio with God's son and Hit
Pussy was so fire, shit, I almost let it slip
Wishin' I just came through the door, got some head and dipped
Lot of shit be on my conscience like Jermaine Cole
I feel like him and Kendrick Duckworth got the same soul, same goals
Wish my life was more like them ****, relaxed and cool
And they still with the women that they dated back in school
I can't be tied down, so I smash and move
But every good pussy comes with a bag of shoes
One day I'm gon' settle down and just pick the one
But today, I fled the scene of a hit-and-run
I could blame my daddy for my player way
But he dead, so it's this until I fade away
[Chorus]
I don't care too much about no shit I can't control
I don't care too much about no jewelry and no clothes
I don't care too much about no cars or these hoes
I'm runnin' out of time, shit, my mama gettin' old
I don't care too much about no paper, my shit long
Money grow on trees, man, them trees gettin' blown
So I don't care too much about what other **** own
I done lost so many friends, feel like I'm out'chea on my own
Written by: J. Taylor
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