Video Musik

Video Musik

Dari

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Chuckyy
Chuckyy
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Trevion Turner
Trevion Turner
Composer
Charles Edward Davis
Charles Edward Davis
Lyrics
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
CudaYouMadeThis
CudaYouMadeThis
Producer

Lirik

[Intro]
Ain't no ones in this, ****, this shit fifty-ifties, ****
This shit is a true story
[Chorus]
Uh, late night, bappin' with foenem, ridin' down Lake Shore, talkin' 'bout touchin' a milli'
These **** ain't really on shit, foenem bail out blickin' and leave a fat boy brain empty (Rrah-rrah-rrah)
Uh, we steppin' on shit in the trenches for real, wanna learn how to kill, get me with me
I got a big heart for them switches for real, but I get off dumpin' the semi (Brr)
Leave a fuck **** brain on the dashboard, uh, skrrt, bah, headshot, he asked for it (Come here)
We ain't really a fan of the internet shit, when we catch him in person, tag-toe him
I'm feelin' like Lil Tunechi in '006, Smurk say, "Duffle Bag Boys"
We'll walk his ass back in the crib, "Get the fuck on the ground, where the fuck that cash, boy?" (Come here, get down)
[Verse 1]
I'm knee-deep in the trenches, fuck **** ain't standin' on business for real
These stupid-ass **** ain't listened, I told 'em I was gon' be rich, then I signed my deal
Now everybody act weird, blood don't mean shit, **** still get popped like pills
If I call right now, go score, ridin' with four chops, right now, we the real Navy SEALs
Hundred racks in my bookbag, dolo as fuck, boy, tweak, I'm itchin' to kill
These **** only tough on social sites, **** don't really be tweakin' with tweakers for real (Gang)
I'm really a tweaker for real, catch an opp out in Bali and throw him off a hill
**** in the 'Raq be fuck tough, Bloodbathh OT in Bali, fuckin' thots on a hill (Gang)
We'll leave a **** brain in the dirt, gettin' high in the spot, that's just how we live
These tough-ass **** don't really be gangster, these **** be bitched out, actin' like pigs
This shit ain't 'bout nothin' (Nothin'), stackin' up bodies just like John Wick (Bodies, bodies, bodies, bodies)
They know how the fuck we rockin', bath, bath, bath
[Chorus]
Late night, bappin' with foenem, ridin' down Lake Shore, talkin' 'bout touchin' a milli'
These **** ain't really on shit, foenem bail out blickin' and leave a fat boy brain empty (Rrr)
Uh, we steppin' on shit in the trenches for real, wanna learn how to kill, get me with me (With me)
I got a big heart for them switches for real, but I get off dumpin' the semi
Leave a fuck **** brain on the dashboard, uh, skrrt, bah, headshot, he asked for it
We ain't really a fan of the internet shit, when we catch him in person, tag-toe him
I'm feelin' like Lil Tunechi in '006, Smurk say, "Duffle Bag Boys"
We'll walk his ass back in the crib, "Get the fuck on the ground, where the fuck that cash, boy?" (Get the fuck down)
Written by: Charles Davis, Trevion Turner
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