Lil Yachty के शीर्ष गीत
इसी प्रकार के गाने
क्रेडिट्स
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Lil Yachty
Vocals
Earl on the Beat
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Miles Parks McCollum
Songwriter
Isaac Earl Bynum
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Earl on the Beat
Producer
Thomas “Tillie” Mann
Mixing Engineer
Gentuar Memishi
Recording Engineer
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer
गाने
Sippin' the peach soda
The niggas inside, they gon' hide 'til the heat is over (Frr)
Sippin' the peach soda
The niggas inside, they gon' hide 'til the heat is over (Frr)
Sippin' the peach soda
The niggas inside, they gon' hide 'til the heat is over
I'ma ride 'til the beat is over
Two Chanel bags, same price as my mink sofa
And I move like the King Cobra
Slimin' them out, dawg, I didn't have to think it over
(Earl on the beat)
(Frr)
Sippin' the peach soda
The niggas inside, they gon' hide 'til the heat is over (Uh)
I'ma ride 'til the beat is over (Uh)
Two Chanel bags, same price as my mink sofa (Go)
And I move like the King Cobra (Go)
Slimin' them out, dawg, I didn't have to think it over (Slatt)
This lil' bitch, I'ma bend her over
After I'm done, called the gang, I'ma send her over (Gang)
I'm in tune with the UPS (Yeah)
Waitin' on packages, KP gon' do the rest
Got some bitches in Budapest
Strapped with them K's, they walk 'round wearin' bullet vests
(Ooh, frr)
I need you to do more, but speak less
Youngins gon' open, uh
Youngins gon' open 'em up like some Mucinex (Go)
Give me top, baby, keep the sex (Go)
My dick get bigger when I see a money check
Used to didn't have 100 bands (Beep)
Now I'm outside with the gang doin' the money dance
I'm a rush hour road runner (Mm)
I'm a rush hour road runner, like Jackie Chan
My big brother was beatin' pans (Beat it)
Lil' brother psyched out, he might go shoot your mans (Buh, buh, beep)
Sunday through Sunday (Sunday)
I got them bitches comin' on the runway (On the runway)
Fuck with the feng shui (Fuck with)
Break a bitch back like the wood with a sensei (Krr)
Fold it up Nisei (Fold it)
You wasn't 'round at the gym back at Lin Lay
Beep
Split
Yeah
Uh-huh (Too much slime, Earl, hold it on)
Yeah (Hold that shit down, nigga)
Uh-huh (I'ma see it, you gon' see it and now he see it)
Really had a doubt
Uh-huh (Feel me)
Uh-huh (For real), uh-huh, uh-huh
Beep, look (Go)
I'm hated the most, I don't give a damn (Go)
I used to swipe for nothin' through Skype
Through the night, I would eat on the Grand Slam (Swipe)
Don't be like me, I'm a meanie
Still ridin' dirty 'round town like a millionaire (Don't be like me)
These niggas softer than Build-A-Bear
Penthouse, then make her eat with no silverware (Shit, ayy, fuck)
I'm crackin' this bitch like some software (Go)
I got her boyfriend on my crosshair
He talkin' down (Phew), go the sound
I'm in New York, need a loft here (Damn)
Bitch, I'm a motherfuckin' boss here (Damn)
No, ain't no nigga soft here (Fuck 'em)
My niggas down, they came from the town (Phew)
They let it off here (Slatt)
Audemars Piguet, ice me (Ice)
Where I be fuckin' this Pisces?
She wanna beat up a wifey (She was down)
I like the Piguets, I like the emeralds
Damn, them shits look like a icy (Ice)
If I'm school, check out the IQ
I made more guap than an IT (Yeah)
Shit, nah, whole time niggas hold shit down (Frrt, frrt, hold it down)
Yeah, whole time niggas never lie
Niggas keep a 100 rounds (Whole time, frrt)
Yeah, home alone, nigga, run up on me
Do them like Macaulay Caulkin (Shit, shit, shit, yeah)
250 for the Bentley coupe, I ain't drivin', leave it, park it (Fif', yeah)
Lot of my choices, dumb shit
Can't pull up on the block on that dumb shit
My niggas got red on their head
Red on their head on some Trump shit (Brrt)
I'm swervin' the Bourbon down Highland (Skrt)
Swervin' the whip on some drunk shit (Swerve)
I'm not a fighter at all
But I stomp his head, wanted him dead (Prrt, prrt, prrt)
Won't get offended, my conscience (Poh)
These bitches hang 'round for the content (Bitch)
It took me way out of context (Oh)
And youngin' go blow like a suntext (Shit, beep)
Live everywhere like some Germex (Hee)
Just tell my nigga, "His turn next" (God)
Burn that shit down (Ploom)
Bitch, I'm a burnup (Burn)
Yeah (Burn), y'all gotta earn that (Brrt)
Don't speak on no shit you don't know about
Before you speak on it, go learn that
Shit, shit, yeah (Shit)
For real, keepin' this shit for real (Beep)
Three own them, two I should kill (Yeah)
I don't even know how to feel, yeah (Beep)
Nah, whole time, niggas hold shit down (Frrt, frrt, hold it down)
Yeah, whole time, niggas never lie
Niggas keep a 100 rounds (Whole time, frrt)
Yeah, home alone, nigga, run up on me
Do them like Macaulay Caulkin (Shit, shit, shit, yeah)
250 for the Bentley coupe, I ain't drivin', leave it, park it (Fif', yeah)
Frr, frr (Go)
Frr, frr
Frr, frr
Writer(s): Miles Parks Mccollum, Isaac Earl Bynum
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