Video musicale

Crediti

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Quavo
Quavo
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Shane Lindstrom
Shane Lindstrom
Songwriter
Oriel Bitton
Oriel Bitton
Songwriter
Quavious Marshall
Quavious Marshall
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Quavo
Quavo
Mixing Engineer
Murda Beatz
Murda Beatz
Producer
Anthony J Vilchis
Anthony J Vilchis
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Trey Station
Trey Station
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Zach Pereyra
Zach Pereyra
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Colin Leonard
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer
Oriel Bitton
Oriel Bitton
Producer

Testi

This year, I can't play with y'all niggas, I'm just sayin' I just had my heart froze, and now I close my hand (close) I ain't got nothin' to give, niggas out here playin' (playin') I know it's been some years, but now I'm takin' xans (pop it, pop it) All tears for my mans (tears) Wipe my eyes, then start layin' (wipe it) Don't be talkin', somebody watchin' (shh) Get off the phone, somebody clockin' what we doin' Somebody hop in the whip, let's slide (skrrt, skrrt) Ain't no demon, we disciples ('ciples) Malcolm had a rifle, had to roll up in some bible paper (yeah, brr) That's my bitch, I told her, "Suck it later" (call you back, call you back) We got some shit we got to handle, baby (handle that, handle that) If you ain't his Unc', I don't expect you to say shit (fuck you, fuck you, nigga) I'ma shoot my shot, if I get my chance, I take it Ain't no Muslim, I need all the bacon (I need all the cash) I'ma trap right here, 'til the block gets vacant (uh, uh, the blue) Now it turned into survival (survive) I don't trust nothin' but my family and my rifle (nothin') I ain't payin' attention to nobody but my rivals (nope) I ain't know I had that many bosses in my iPhone Huh, huh, please don't tell on me, no way, Holmes (no way) Huh, huh, I'ma always find you a way home (swear) I got a big old bag, I gotta keep a bag of that dog shit Dirty money, wash my hands with dirty money and wash it clean Everybody know I'm gon' ignite, the way them birds sing (brr) Preachin' nothin' violence, with my gun Huncho Luther King (woo) What you wanna be, you wanna be a gangster or a chief? Long as I live, and I breathe, you can't take my seat (huncho) This year, I can't play with y'all niggas, I'm just sayin' (just sayin') I just had my heart froze, and now I close my hand (close) I ain't got nothin' to give, niggas out here playin' (playin') I know it's been some years, but now I'm takin' xans (pop it, pop it) All tears for my mans (tears) Wipe my eyes, then start layin' Don't be talkin', somebody watchin' Get off the phone, somebody clockin' what we doin' (somebody clockin') Somebody hop in the whip, let's slide (skrrt, skrrt) Ain't no demon, we disciples ('ciples) Malcolm had a rifle, had to roll up in some bible paper (yeah, brr) That's my bitch, I told her, "Suck it later" (call you back) We got some shit we got to handle, baby (yeah) (M-m-m-murda) hello? Yo, what's up? Man, I don't even feel like talkin' right now, man I don't like talkin' 'bout that shit on the phone
Writer(s): Shane Lindstrom, Quavious Keyate Marshall, Oriel Bitton Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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