म्यूज़िक वीडियो

क्रेडिट्स

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Kevin Gates
Kevin Gates
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kevin Gates
Kevin Gates
Songwriter
Charles Forsberg
Charles Forsberg
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Colin Leonard
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer
John Will
John Will
Mixing Engineer
Charley Cooks
Charley Cooks
Producer

गाने

Well, one of these ol' pussy-ass niggas do what y'all salute (yeah, yeah, yeah) Bitch-ass niggas know they actin' cap (yeah, yeah, yeah) Luca Brasi On the road, back to back for shows, and I ain't get a cent off that (at all) Back to cookin' fish, smell like a brick, I got that scent off that (on God) Closed doors, ones closest hurtin' your emotions (huh?) Then get 'round, they fake supporters and play perfect on the socials (hmm) I can't go along to get a long, I'm a big soldier (easy) Killa Stone reincarnatin', all Magnolia That other nigga, we are not the same, fall back homie (bitch) I am downtown, night ward, Baton Rouge, big dawg E-Wayne, K-Wayne, B-Wayne, gettin' off (woo) Meditate, Seroquel, Elavil, sick cough (roof) New buildin', violated Got shipped, ten songs I done been up-state with niggas afraid to walk the big yard Bad karma come to those who cross me, bust the beef here (boom, boom) 70805, I pull up, hop off, got some street cred' Lil' one snuck me, he dead, that other nigga, he dead I'm major league swingin' this big bitch, you know how we play it Copied all my tats, he actin' like he put in work for this (yeah) You ain't work the trench, you pussy bitch, you rode a bunch of dicks Heal with that retinol, yeah Four niggas in folders, yeah Lord's got a name for it, don't know what to call it yet Gunner, ward mighty, Breadwinner, John Gotti (wah) King Ox hit the fed, cut his dreads, kept it solid (wah) Tell Lil Hank, that's my gangster, Jonathan like John Stockton Know if I go back, I could lay back 'cause I know that he got me Dre chillin' my accountant, buku money counters counting I get John Wheeler, all of his responses gon' be copied (gone) Pretty bitch, big booty, Texas, she responded (what up?) Eat that dick up on command, meanin' she in correspondence Pretty feet, I nibble on her cheeks when we at my apartment (oh) All up in her arteries, I slang that dick in high performance Real drug lord fresh, Kevin dress designer garments Plugged in, I'ma make coca, opposite of boring Really did it from the corner, graduated to a trap spot You knew 'bout Gates, 2008, you call that bitch the Match Box Safety pin and nitro digit scales, I'm moving crack out Lil' bitch off Tennessee in here with me, I blew her back out My partner tellin' me the game foul, I should back out My same partner left me in a gown with my back out Rappers got around me, my stories, they re-enact out Real big speakers, you ain't did no time, it just don't add out Vroom, Urus wide body kit, I whip the Lamb' out Talked about by pussy niggas who indigent with they hand out Heroin and syringes, real militant, it should tan out First niggas said they stand on nation business, I'm official Feelin' like Demar Derozan, got looked over, turned me vicious They salute the fakes, say, "Fuck the real," I wonder what I did 'em I got plenty pretty women whom I won't give no commitment Steppin' on these niggas, fell in love with my new mission I know music cool, but I know sellin' drugs would get me richer With the shit of life sentence come with this and I'm convicted Damn, we done run out of beat
Writer(s): Kevin Gilyard, Charles Forsberg Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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