Concerti in programma per 1nonly & Freddie Dredd
Suggerimenti
Crediti
PERFORMING ARTISTS
1nonly
Performer
Freddie Dredd
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Nathan Fuller
Composer
Ryan Chassels
Composer
Patrick Alexander Hall
Composer
Emanuel Felipe Silva De Oliviera
Lyrics
David Wilson
Lyrics
Caleb Thomas Wilson
Lyrics
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
1nonly
Mixing Engineer
27amigo
Producer
Dwilly
Producer
EF
Producer
Testi
(dwilly I'm scared)
I-I got, I got paper in this duffel, you got problems I can tell
Hope my coffin come in stuffed wit'
Dope and double C, Chanel
I-I got seven figure sales, you-you got tied up then you fell
P-Probably spent your month of rent on lunch
Your yearly spent on grailed
Ya-ya whole crew gon' die
My whole crew gon' slide, I wish you well
Wish that you would try
W-Wanna get supplied just ring the bell
Ring the bell, ring the, r-ring the bell
So much paper on me, bitch
That you would think I'm checkin' mail
G-Gettin high smokin' 'til I leave
P-P-Push up on me pop that .9, watch me bullet feed
I think I'm late, I'm checkin' that time
Private driver parkin' out front
Wantin' that pic better stand in line
Double R phantom outside
Backseat riding ridin' with stars look up
I-I got, I got paper in this duffel, you got problems I can tell
Hope my coffin come in stuffed wit' dope
And double C, Chanel
I-I got seven figure sales, you-you got tied up then you fell
P-Probably spent your month of rent on lunch
Your yearly spent on grailed
I cannot stand a motha fucka runnin' up on me
I get it quickly we set in stone my family
Doomshop killas standin' on a silly set ya heard (Ya heard)
Bullets like a bird they flyin' through ya fuckin church
I wonder why you crying steady hatin' steady lying (Lying)
You said you tough, but yous a pussy now ya ass is fryin' (Fryin')
I'm loaded up, I'm steady aiming at you fucking bitches
I swear I love these switches pull the trigger rest in pieces
I walk the walk, I talk the talk and I will prove it to ya
I'm 289, I'm 186, the Freddie make ya piss
I done a lot of shit to make it where I got like this
Dug my way from the dirt and now the Freddie's pissed
Ya run around ya hit the ground and now ya pleadin', baby
I cannot give no extra credit 'cause I'm fuckin shady
I stay up in the shadows demons creeps and body's shallow
I always want the battle hear the sound the death rattle
I got paper in this duffel, you got problems I can tell
Hope my coffin come in stuffed wit' dope and double C, Chanel
I-I got seven figure sales, you-you got tied up then you fell
P-Probably spent your month of rent on lunch
Your yearly spent on grailed
(dwilly I'm scared)
Written by: Caleb Thomas Wilson, David Wilson, Emanuel Felipe Silva De Oliviera, Nathan Fuller, Patrick Alexander Hall, Ryan Chassels