クレジット
PERFORMING ARTISTS
French Montana
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Durk Banks
Songwriter
Karim Kharbouch
Songwriter
Krueonthebeat
Songwriter
Marlon Miller
Songwriter
Zaki
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Krueonthebeat
Producer
Marlon Miller
Producer
Zaki
Producer
歌詞
[Verse 1]
Trippy, trippy
Trippy, trippy
Trippy, trippy
Trippy, trippy
[Verse 2]
Band, band, band (Yes, sir)
Goddamn, damn, damn (Yes, sir)
Shorty do it, do it, made it, blew it (Yes, sir, yes, sir)
Got them band, band, bands
Me and Durk in the Lamb, Lamb, Lamb (Yes, sir)
Shorty do it, do it, made it, blew it (Yes, sir, yes, sir)
That Hancock, that Lamb drop, your bitch bob, yes, sir (Yes, sir)
That pinky ring, that wrist watch, that chain rocky, yes, sir (Yes, sir)
Them numbers up, them hoes mad, them boys cocky, yes, sir (Yes, sir)
They wanna smoke, we got hookahs, that dirty 30, yes, sir
Yes, sir, yes, sir
Yes, sir, yes, sir
Yes, sir, yes, sir
Yes, sir, yes, sir
[Verse 3]
Talk to a bitch, she say, "Yes, sir"
I say, "Don't say that, say mmm-hmm"
Police ask your ass, where Durk at?
Don't say yeah, just say mmm-hmm
She tryna fuck in the back of the Lamb
I tell her, "Mmm-hmm, ain't no room"
Fuck one bitch, tried to put me on blast
I say, "Mmm-hmm, ain't no proof"
I pop the roxy, yeah, turn up in the streets
Too cocky, yeah
He got a Glocky, yeah
Took his shit and I blocked him, yeah
She tried to suck it through my Polo
Bitch, these Jockeys, yeah, yeah
Spend some blood money on Rodeo
I'm too cocky, yeah, yeah
Why you mad about your cousin, but he's still dead, yeah
Why you trickin' on your homies and you're still there, yeah
Uh, yeah, bitch, don't blow your blessing
Keep on lying on my name, won't give your ass no justice, yeah
Before I take a flight, I take a Perc, confession, yeah
Won't put myself on blast, I bet you get this message, yeah
[Verse 4]
Band, band, band (Yes, sir)
Goddamn, damn, damn (Yes, sir)
Shorty do it, do it, made it, blew it (Yes, sir, yes, sir)
Got them band, band, bands
Me and Durk in the Lamb, Lamb, Lamb (Yes, sir)
Shorty do it, do it, made it, blew it (Yes, sir, yes, sir)
That Hancock, that Lamb drop, your bitch bob, yes, sir (Yes, sir)
That pinky ring, that wrist watch, that chain rocky, yes, sir (Yes, sir)
Them numbers up, them hoes mad, them boys cocky, yes, sir (Yes, sir)
They wanna smoke, we got hookahs, that dirty 30, yes, sir
Yes, sir, yes, sir
Yes, sir, yes, sir
Yes, sir, yes, sir
Yes, sir, yes, sir
[Verse 5]
Torch, stash that, Porsche, matte black
Hit your ting with Cash App
What's in the bank, I'll match that
Hit Vegas like the Rat Pack
And y'all 15s, we laughed at
Copped new Range and a hatchback
That ain't your plane, you capped that
That boy, fuego, Steph Curry, Draco
Pockets full of bankrolls, haters watching every angle
From glue face to small face, that Johnny Hancock
I copped that hoopty first, on a fiend name
I put the Lamb drop (Yes, sir)
Out the yacht with the fur, from the block to the 'burb
And that drop is converted, I made a lot of them words
I sip that 'Nac till I'm ooze, I chip your top with that Uzi
And I got stopped by the blues, and I fucked the cop like I'm Tunechi
[Verse 6]
Band, band, band (Yes, sir)
Goddamn, damn, damn (Yes, sir)
Shorty do it, do it, made it, blew it (Yes, sir, yes, sir)
Got them band, band, bands
Me and Durk in the Lamb, Lamb, Lamb (Yes, sir)
Shorty do it, do it, made it, blew it (Yes, sir, yes, sir)
That Hancock, that Lamb drop, your bitch bob, yes, sir (Yes, sir)
That pinky ring, that wrist watch, that chain rocky, yes, sir (Yes, sir)
Them numbers up, them hoes mad, them boys cocky, yes, sir (Yes, sir)
They wanna smoke, we got hookahs, that dirty 30, yes, sir
Yes, sir, yes, sir
Yes, sir, yes, sir
Yes, sir, yes, sir
Yes, sir, yes, sir
