Clip vidéo

Travis Scott - WHO? WHAT! (Audio)
Regarder le vidéoclip de {trackName} par {artistName}

Apparaît dans

Crédits

INTERPRÉTATION
Travis Scott
Travis Scott
Chant
Frank Dukes
Frank Dukes
Programmation
Takeoff
Takeoff
Chant
Quavious Marshall
Quavious Marshall
Chant
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Ronald LaTour
Ronald LaTour
Paroles/Composition
Samuel Gloade
Samuel Gloade
Paroles/Composition
Quavious Marshall
Quavious Marshall
Paroles/Composition
Adam Feeney
Adam Feeney
Paroles/Composition
Lamont Porter
Lamont Porter
Paroles/Composition
Brock Korsan
Brock Korsan
Paroles/Composition
Kirsnick Khari Ball
Kirsnick Khari Ball
Paroles/Composition
Travis Scott
Travis Scott
Paroles/Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Cardo
Cardo
Production
30 Roc
Production
Jimmy Cash
Jimmy Cash
Ingénierie de prise de son
Ben Sedano
Ben Sedano
Assistance d’ingénierie
MIKE DEAN
MIKE DEAN
Ingénierie de mastérisation

Paroles

Know what I'm saying, know what I'm saying Know what I'm saying Heard they talkin' shit 'bout I Who what when and why I'm alive, just took one to revive (yeah) Keep that vibe when we show up and collide Me and the guys move just like the F-O-I In the Hills but still keep them ghetto ties (Hills) Was talkin' Frenchy's but she thinkin' Ocean Prime Know she keep an open mouth and open mind I don't open up her door, she open mine I need less stress and I need more thighs, yes (skrr, skrr) We on the jet quest, mobbin' with the drop, yes (skrr, skrr) In the headrest want the 25, yes (skrr, skrr) Ain't seen the best yet, open up your eyes, yeah One, two, three, four, five, that's the countdown 'til I slide (slide) Pork and rinds, how I grew up on my side Ain't no fence just a hundred acres wide When shit get tense, we twist up and we get fried I picked my favorite dancer I done pay her rent (cash, cash) At Christmas time it's no Saint Nick we got the Grinch I smack that ass she threw it back in self defense (yeah) We took the crib, flipped the backyard like it's the beach We did some things out on the ways that we can't speak All I know it was Mo Bamba on repeat I don't think these things I took is helpin' me (oh yeah) Had to buy some more Had to count the fours Had to count up the Os (big bag) Had to summon the hoes (ay) Dodge the federal (12) I rolled through the light (skrr, skrr) Rollin' the dice (ay) Rock on my ice (all ice) Poppin' that Gucci (Gucci, Gucci) This down and groovy To get down, get groovy That bitch brown and choosey (hey) Shawty, in the supersonic (yeah) Brand new La Ferrari (woo), my bitch ride iconic Yeah, yeah One, two, three, four, five, that's the countdown 'til I slide (slide) Pork and rinds, how I grew up on my side Ain't no fence just a hundred acres wide When shit get tense, we twist up and we get fried Was born in the movie (movie) Never make excuses (no) It was time to move it (time to move) It was God and the uzi (God and the uzi) We were trained to use it (hey) They was train to use it (train) Shoot you like Cupid (shoot) Hit your medulla, yeah Shoot at, shoot at them shooters (yeah) Then shoot your producer This shit for the gang Get banged and fuck on the group, she a groupie (yeah) Love her when she choosey, hmm (yeah) Big bankroll it's soothin', hmm (yeah) Pull up with the sticks I'm makin' them cuddle up this not a movie Yeah, yeah One, two, three, four, five, that's the countdown 'til I slide (slide) Pork and rinds, how I grew up on my side Ain't no fence just a hundred acres wide When shit get tense, we twist up and we get fried
Writer(s): Lamont J. Porter, Cydel Charles Young, Jacques Webster, Quavious Keyate Marshall, Brock F. Korsan, Kirsnick Khari Ball, Ronald N. La Tour, Samuel Gloade Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out