Video musical
Video musical
Créditos
Artistas intérpretes
Big Sean
Voces
Milan Beker
Teclados
Rogét Chahayed
Teclados
Terius Gesteelde-Diamant
Voces de fondo
Eryn Allen Kane
Voces de fondo
Isaac De Boni
Teclados
Michael Mule
Teclados
Jazmine Bailey
Voces de fondo
George Lovett
Voces de fondo
WilliE
Voces de fondo
COMPOSICIÓN Y LETRA
Teddy Walton
Autoría
Aaron Booe
Autoría
Emmanuel Nickerson
Autoría
Enoch Rich Harris III
Autoría
Welbon Morris Jr.
Autoría
Myles Satterfield
Autoría
Julian Harris
Autoría
Markus Randle
Autoría
Eric Bellinger
Autoría
Jazz Cartier
Autoría
Rogét Chahayed
Autoría
Terius Gesteelde-Diamant
Autoría
Michael Mule
Autoría
Milan Beker
Autoría
Isaac De Boni
Autoría
Sean Michael Anderson
Autoría
Producción e ingeniería
Big Sean
Producción
FNZ
Producción
Mano
Producción
Lil Rich
Producción
OG Webbie
Producción
Milan Beker
Ingeniería de grabación
Myles T
Producción
Teddy Walton
Producción
Aaron Booe
Producción
Rogét Chahayed
Producción
Eryn Allen Kane
Producción vocal
Julian Vasquez
Ingeniería de grabación
Hayden Duncan
Asistente de ingeniería de grabación
Cyrus "NOIS" Taghipour
Ingeniería de mezcla
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Ingeniería de mezcla
Terius Gesteelde-Diamant
Producción
Nicolas De Porcel
Masterización
Demitrius Lewis II
Asistente de ingeniería de masterización
Letra
[Intro]
Ooh-ooh, mmm-mm
Ooh-ooh
Whoa, whoa, yeah
[Verse 1]
You a yes man, I'm a rich boy (Throw some Ds on her)
I'm a breast man, I'ma skeet on her, make a mess
And she gon' look up to me, I'm who she proud of
I come from where it's hustlers, pimps, players, and don dadas
[Refrain]
Yeah
Yeah, yeah
[Verse 2]
New shit might get spooky, had to bring the ways back
Stupid lil' bitch wan' reminisce about some shit from way back
When you slackin' on the job, that's when they try and take that
**** really think they cutthroat 'cause they talkin' out they necks
Why don't you get out yo' feelings? Middle fingers to these ****
They wanna see me turn to the villain, either way though, I'ma kill 'em
[Chorus]
When they tried to tell me, "No," I said, "No, motherfucker, yes"
Yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh
Yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh
Yes, tch, yes, huh, yes, huh
When they tried to tell me, "No," I said, "No, motherfucker, yes", huh
Yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh
[Verse 3]
Fuck you mean? My life real GTA
And I need a payment in ETH
Right now the motherfuckin' ETA
And I be the champ, ****, year after year after year
Yeah, I'm goin' three-peat wave
I ain't droppin' no dime, you boys cheapskates
And I'm stickin' to the course, no PGA
Hoes plottin' on me, that's so cliché
Five-star suite, five-star general, yeah, bitch, and I'm goin' AWOL (AWOL)
Done seen more racks than an eight-ball
Don life logo on the jersey like I play ball
Stupid **** been like, "What you been on?"
I said, "A fuckin' rocket, bitch, I'm 'bout to go take off" (Take off)
Bitch, I'ma fly my own PJ, fuck you mean?
Top flight security of the world, Craig
Goofy-ass highs
**** got my name in they mouth 'cause I'm all in their girl head
I stuck to the code, boy, they can't decode me
If they pushin' my buttons, it's code red
Twenty thousand bitches prayin' that we break up
You that **** while you sleepin', I'm him when I wake up
Yeah, holy matrimony, way I stack the cake up
This right here the realest game I probably ever gave up
[Chorus]
When they tried to tell me, "No," I said, "No, motherfucker, yes"
Yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh
Yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh
Yes, tch, yes, huh, yes, huh
When they tried to tell me, "No," I said, "No, motherfucker, yes", huh
Yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh
Yes
[Bridge]
Yeah
Whoa, whoa, what the fuck?
What the fuck?
Yes
[Verse 4]
I would rather give y'all my soul, I don't have to sell it
Might take a piss off your rap Mount Rushmore after I scale it
Blue strips, when I do hit the strip, know we fuckin' it up like Elvis
No broke talk, G.O.A.T. talk
Money talkin' to me, like I don't need no motherfuckin' therapist
Brought it right back to the crib like it's nowhere else to go
I was in North Carolina, throwin' up them pyramids with Hov
Confirmation that my ancestors built pyramids fasho
Nothin' happens by coincidence, it's written in the scrolls
Fuckin' wifey types like hoes
I can't even put on my clothes, bitch, I gotta go
Pockets so deep, it implodes
Who keepin' up with the score? I don't plateau
**** back up in that mode
And I don't weigh no pros or no cons 'cause I only know pros
Fuck what you sellin' me
I lay the play down to run this bitch, I think they tellin' me, "No"
Written by: Aaron Booe, Emmanuel Nickerson, Enoch Rich Harris III, Eric Bellinger, Isaac De Boni, Jazz Cartier, Julian Harris, Markus Randle, Michael Mule, Milan Beker, Myles Satterfield, Rogét Chahayed, Sean Anderson, Teddy Walton, Terius Gesteelde-Diamant, Welbon Morris Jr.


