ミュージックビデオ

ミュージックビデオ

クレジット

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Lil Goat
Lil Goat
Performer
RALAN STYLES
RALAN STYLES
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Michael Robinson
Michael Robinson
Songwriter
Christian Cooper
Christian Cooper
Songwriter

歌詞

Ay, ay, ay, who the fuck is that at the door?
What the fuck
Ugh, I don't know
Let's go check it
-Is that Jake and Jared?
Yeah, yeah
Knock, knock, knock, open up, don't be scared, man (Open up)
Shots, shots, shots, from the Glock, he a dead man (Grrrrah)
Opps, opps, opps, I'm on they top, like a head stand (On his top)
Stop, stop, stop, I'm like ''Cap'', you the feds man (Feds?)
Knock, knock, knock, at your door for the bread, man (Pow, pow)
Knock, knock, knock, like a teacher, got that let man
Pow, pow, pow, Mr. Krabs, that's a red man (Hahaha)
Shots, shots, shots, at his head, he a dead man
He's cappin' on the net like they actually a threat
They plan on snatchin' my respect, you better go grab you a check
I be fuckin' hella hoes and still be smashin' on my ex
I wasn't born to be no pussy, had to grind to be the best
Man, these **** ain't my twin, they ain't no kin to me (They ain't no kin to me)
If they don't open up that door, I swear to God I'm in that chimney
Fuck around and give 'em hell, that ain't a sin to me (Ain't a sin to me)
I know these **** ain't no gangster, that's just some they pretend to be (On God)
They think this shit a joke when they hear that knock-knock (What the fuck)
Until they open up that door and hear that paw-paw (Let it bust)
Cruisin' through the opps hood in the drop top
Kickin' down that door if they don't open, they hear shot-shot-shot
Knock, knock, knock, open up, don't be scared, man (Open up)
Shots, shots, shots, from the Glock, he a dead man (Frrah)
Opps, opps, opps, I'm on they top, like a head stand (On his top)
Stop, stop, stop, I'm like ''Cap'', you the feds man (Feds?)
Knock, knock, knock, at your door for the bread, man
Knock, knock, knock, like a teacher, got that let man
Pow, pow, pow, Mr. Krabs, that's a red man
Shots, shots, shots, at his head, he a dead man
Better run your funds and get some bread and run that bag daily
I've been in my bag, these **** mad, been gettin' cash lately
Pull up to a crib, but she don't answer, yeah, I'm mad crazy
I wander at your hoe 'bout a bag, I want a bag, baby
Bitch, I keep a Chop', I'on even like to talk
Shawty like the way I dress, shawty like the way I talk
She can turn her loc' off, I'ma **** who gon' stalk
And you bet' not drop that lo, all my **** spinnin' blocks
Watch the hand you shake, uh, **** be finessin' you
Heard your ass was fake, that's the reason I don't mess with you
Always at the studio, the reason I'm ahead of you
Better keep your door locked, ****, that's what's best for you
Knock, knock, knock, open up, don't be scared, man (Open up)
Shots, shots, shots, from the Glock, he a dead man (Frrah)
Opps, opps, opps, I'm on they top, like a head stand (On his top)
Stop, stop, stop, I'm like ''Cap'', you the feds man (Feds?)
Knock, knock, knock, at your door for the bread, man
Knock, knock, knock, like a teacher, got that let man
Pow, pow, pow, Mr. Krabs, that's a red man
Shots, shots, shots, at his head, he a dead man
Written by: Christian Cooper, Michael Robinson
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