クレジット
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Comethazine
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Frank Childress
Songwriter
Divjot Singh Anand
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Divjot Anand
Producer
歌詞
[Verse 1]
**** claim he gon' get me, claim he gon' rush me
We outside ya spot now, ****, time to get ugly
Have him shittin' in his pants, **** pass him a Huggie
Chopper bullets made him dance, look, he hittin' his Dougie
Catch him lackin', do your thing, then clean up the spot
'Cause who gon' leave some evidence? ****, I'm not
Paid a hundred for the Forces, now it's blood on the bottom
Finna hit the Foot Locker, bitch, I'm not finna wash 'em
[Verse 2]
She say "Ever since you got rich, you act like a dick"
Nah, bitch, that ain't it, I just can't trust any bitch (Bitch)
Man, they think I got a problem 'cause I smoke out the pound
I roll up around you **** and don't pass it around (No)
And if a **** got a problem, bitch, I got the four pound (Alright)
.38, put 8 bullets in and spin it around
Put a potato on the barrel, bitch, it won't make a sound (No)
Shoot a **** like a layup, but I'm layin' him down
Use to post on Edgemont with the gun on my back
Bitch, I'm uon 73rd with an 8 ball of crack
I did that for a summer, the shit was gettin' kinda wack
Took some cash from that and bought a Mac, then put out a track (Then I put out a track)
Now these bitches, they love me, and these **** stay hatin'
But that's ok, I'm gettin' pussy while them boys masturbate (Alright)
I got a chop with a sword, slice off his head
Keep stabbin' till the rest of that boy's body is dead
[Verse 3]
**** claim he gon' get me, claim he gon' rush me
We outside ya spot now, ****, time to get ugly
Have him shittin' in his pants, **** pass him a Huggie
Chopper bullets made him dance, look, he hittin' his Dougie
Catch him lackin', do your thing, then clean up the spot
'Cause who gon' leave some evidence? ****, I'm not
Paid a hundred for the Forces, now it's blood on the bottom
Finna hit the Foot Locker, bitch, I'm not finna wash 'em
[Verse 4]
**** claim he gon' get me, claim he gon' rush me
We outside ya spot now, ****, time to get ugly
Have him shittin' in his pants, **** pass him a Huggie
Chopper bullets made him dance, look, he hittin' his Dougie
Catch him lackin', do your thing, then clean up the spot
'Cause who gon' leave some evidence? ****, I'm not
Paid a hundred for the Forces, now it's blood on the bottom
Finna hit the Foot Locker, bitch, I'm not finna wash 'em
Written by: Divjot Singh Anand, Frank Childress
