Clip vidéo

Crédits

INTERPRÉTATION
Juice WRLD
Juice WRLD
Chant
Trippie Redd
Trippie Redd
Chant
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
David Karbal
David Karbal
Composition
Kim Candilora
Kim Candilora
Composition
Nicholas Mira
Nicholas Mira
Composition
Thomas Wesley Pentz
Thomas Wesley Pentz
Composition
William Repko II
William Repko II
Composition
Jarad Higgins
Jarad Higgins
Paroles/Composition
Danny Lee Snodgrass, Jr.
Danny Lee Snodgrass, Jr.
Composition
Michael Lamar White
Michael Lamar White
Paroles/Composition
Henry Nichols
Henry Nichols
Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Diplo
Diplo
Co‑production
Terrance Armond
Terrance Armond
Assistance d’ingénierie de prise de son
REPKO
REPKO
Production
Aryay
Aryay
Co‑production
Edgard N. Herrera
Edgard N. Herrera
Ingénierie de mixage
KC Supreme
KC Supreme
Production
Nick Mira
Nick Mira
Production
Pharaoh Vice
Pharaoh Vice
Production
Taz Taylor
Taz Taylor
Production

Paroles

Internet Money, bitch (Nick, you're stupid) Baby, come and have a blast with me Do everything I say like your majesty Fuck with the gang and it be a tragedy Fuck with my shooters, they in the back with me Fuck with me, baby, come get this bag with me Been alone for a minute, that shit been dragging me Craving your love, it's heart-attacking me Tryna get in that pussy, baby, that mac and cheese I cannot show these bitches no sympathy Or these niggas, they simps and they hella bitch to me I was just fortunate, got the remedy Fuck that bitch and then dip, I got them chips to receive, yeah Baby, come and have a blast with me Do everything I say like your majesty Fuck with the gang and it be a tragedy Fuck with my shooters, they in the back with me (uh) You picked that knife up and you stabbin' me Wish it was a paper cut, but it's a gash, I bleed out And the way you keep harassin' me It's a shame this the way that it has to be, oh Uh, yeah, time is of the essence You know damn well you bring hell, I should call a reverend Devil horns on a angel, still haven't learned my lesson (uh) We're a mess and our life's a wreck (hey) Toxic, toxic, toxic The most beautiful things grow old and start rottin' I should've turned away when I found out you were demonic Let's be honest, you're the devil's daughter Say hey to your father, uh, he owe me 20 dollars We gon' run through hell with like 20-hundred choppers We gon' give 'em hell and I put that on my mama Me and Trippie Redd boolin' back in the Bahamas Baby, come and have a blast with me Do everything I say like your majesty Fuck with the gang and it be a tragedy Fuck with my shooters, they in the back with me Fuck with me, baby, come get this bag with me Been alone for a minute, that shit been dragging me Craving your love, it's heart-attacking me Tryna get in that pussy, baby, that mac and cheese Gang, gang, gang Probably fuckin' your mama Three K on my wrist like André Servin' like entrée Ha, huh, you dig? You dig? You dig?
Writer(s): Kim Candilora Ii, David M Karbal, Nicholas Mira, Danny Lee Snodgrass Jr., William Repko, Michael Lamar Ii White, Jarad A. Higgins, Thomas Wesley Pentz, Henry Lother Nichols Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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