Clip vidéo

Crédits

INTERPRÉTATION
That Mexican OT
That Mexican OT
Chant
DaBaby
DaBaby
Chant
Bankroll Got It
Bankroll Got It
Programmation
88nck
88nck
Programmation
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
VIRGIL GAZCA
VIRGIL GAZCA
Paroles/Composition
Jonathan Lyndale Kirk
Jonathan Lyndale Kirk
Paroles/Composition
Joel Banks
Joel Banks
Paroles/Composition
Taylor Banks
Taylor Banks
Paroles/Composition
Nicholas Kwak
Nicholas Kwak
Paroles/Composition
Antoine Banks
Antoine Banks
Paroles/Composition
Vincent Guzzetta
Vincent Guzzetta
Paroles/Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Bankroll Got It
Bankroll Got It
Production
88nck
88nck
Production
Caleb C4 Albarado
Caleb C4 Albarado
Ingénierie de mixage

Paroles

Ayo, is that That Mexican OT? (B-B-Bankroll Got It) Ayy, where he is? (Where he is?) Point him out (point him out) Throw his bitch ass in the trunk, take him to the South (uh-huh, uh-huh) Ayy, where he is? (Where he is?) Point him out (point him out) Throw his bitch ass in the trunk, show him what the fuck we talkin' 'bout (ugh) I'm strikin' men like strikin' lightnin', you see what happenin' My last fight, friend, well, alright, then Better tighten up, we tight ends Fucked my grill up 'cause I popped an X all night, it had me bitin' Caught his ass stealin', so I had to take his right hand Cup be lookin' like a pump jack, bitch, I am a oiler Damn, how many times I gotta spin to get this boy to learn? Then I ain't no fuckin' joke, we drop lil' T, then drop lil' more Better watch your mouth 'cause I got soap, I got diamonds, tacos, and coke Inside of my Wock', I drop a hater like my throka Got elbows swingin', watch him cook, I smoke his ass just like some morta Leave him flat just like a torta, I swim with killers like a orca It don't matter where it is, it don't matter where I'm at because to me, no me importa Ayy, where he is? (Where he is?) Point him out (point him out) Throw his bitch ass in the trunk, take him to the South (uh-huh, uh-huh) Ayy, where he is? (Where he is?) Point him out (point him out) Throw his bitch ass in the trunk, show him what the fuck we talkin' 'bout (ugh) Bitch, I don't even like no lame, keep my name up out your mix, ho I don't like diamonds no more, only plain-jane to watch my wrist Uh, before rap, I was poppin' my shit, nigga I was still turnt with them motherfuckin' bags My mama thought I had the bricks, nigga, bricks, nigga Drop a ghetto bitch off at her job and borrow her whip, nigga I'm in this with a baby AR playin' sweet, actin' like I'm a bitch, nigga I told lil' mama to bend it over like a dog, I'm tryna come hit with her You know these bitches'll drive a Honda through the wall to fuck with a rich nigga I'm from the South, I greet a woman with a smile when I take a pic' with her, she can relax OT wan' see him in the trunk, shit, I wouldn't even leave him in that Any one of these niggas play when I walk in this bitch I'd probably leave with a hat, nigga, and a reason to laugh, haha Ayy, where he is? (Where he is?) Point him out (point him out) Throw his bitch ass in the trunk take him to the South (uh-huh, uh-huh) Ayy, where he is? (Where he is?) Point him out (point him out) Throw his bitch ass in the trunk how him what the fuck we talkin' 'bout Ayy, where he is? (Where he is?) Point him out (point him out) Throw his bitch ass in the trunk, take him to the South (uh-huh, uh-huh) Ayy, where he is? (Where he is?), Point him out (point him out) Throw his bitch ass in the trunk, show him what the fuck we talkin' 'bout (ugh)
Writer(s): Antoine Banks, Jonathan Lyndale Kirk, Taylor Banks, Joel Banks, Virgil R. Gazca, Nicolas Kwak, Vincent Anthony Jr. Guzzetta Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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