Apparaît dans
Titres similaires
Crédits
INTERPRÉTATION
The Weeknd
Chant
Future
Chant
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Martin McKinney
Paroles/Composition
Ahmad Balshe
Paroles/Composition
Jason 'Daheala' Quenneville
Paroles/Composition
Nayvadius Wilburn
Paroles/Composition
Ben Diehl
Paroles/Composition
Henry Russell Walter
Paroles/Composition
Leland Wayne
Paroles/Composition
Abel Tesfaye
Paroles/Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Metro Boomin
Production
Ben Billions
Production
Josh Smith
Ingénierie de prise de son
Martin McKinney
Production
Manny Marroquin
Ingénierie de mixage
Chris Galland
Ingénierie de mixage
Jeff Jackson
Assistance d’ingénierie de mixage
Robin Florent
Assistance d’ingénierie de mixage
Aya Merrill
Ingénierie de mastérisation
Cirkut
Production
Joshua Smith
Ingénierie de prise de son
The Weeknd
Production
Tom Coyne
Ingénierie de mastérisation
Paroles
Ask around about her
She don't get emotional
Kill off all her feelings
That's why she ain't approachable
She know her pussy got a fanbase
A couple niggas with a suitcase
Suit and tie niggas who play roleplay
When it comes to money she play no games
She lick it up just like a candy
She wanna make them leave their family
She tryna live a life so fancy
She wanna pull up in a Bentley
She ain't got time for lovin'
Louis Vuitton her husband
She'd rather die in lusting
She'd rather die in the club, 'til she-
Six feet under she gon' get that fucking paper
Six feet under she gon' get that fucking paper
Six feet under she gon' get that fucking paper
You know how she get down, pop it for a check now
Six feet under, six, six feet under (that fuckin' paper)
Six feet under, six, six feet under (that fuckin' paper)
Six feet under she gon' kill me for that paper
Not the type to fuck around, gonna turn that ass around
She don't depend on anybody
Know just what to do with her own body
Counting all that money like a hobby (no,no)
She don't give a fuck about nobody
And she got her whole crew poppin' (no,no)
And she bend it over like she got no backbone
Got a couple niggas blinging up a trap phone
She don't need nobody waiting back home, she got it
She lick it up just like a candy
She wanna make them leave their family
She tryna to live a life so fancy
She wanna pull up in a Bentley
She ain't got time for lovin'
Louis Vuitton her husband
She'd rather die in lusting
She'd rather die in the club, 'til she-
Six feet under she gon' get that fucking paper
Six feet under she gon' get that fucking paper
Six feet under she gon' get that fucking paper
You know how she get down, pop it for a check now
Six feet under, six, six feet under (that fuckin' paper)
Six feet under, six, six feet under (that fuckin' paper)
Six feet under she gon' kill me for that paper
Not the type to fuck around, gonna turn that ass around
Gonna turn that ass around
Oh murder, oh murder
Gonna turn that ass around
Oh murder, oh murder
Real love's hard to find
So she don't waste her time (she don't waste her time)
So she don't waste her time, oh
You ain't gon' catch her crying (you ain't gon' catch her crying)
She ain't gon' lose her mind (oh)
She ain't gon' lose her mind
'Til she-
Six feet under she gon' kill me for that paper ('til she)
Six feet under she gon' kill me for that paper ('til she)
Six feet under she gon' kill me for the paper
Not the type to fuck around, gonna turn that ass around
Writer(s): Jason Matthew Quenneville, Benjamin Diehl, Leland Tyler Wayne, Martin Mckinney, Henry Russell Walter, Abel Tesfaye, Ahmad Balshe, Nayvadius Demun Wilburn
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