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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Dom McLennon
Dom McLennon
Vocals
Joba
Joba
Vocals
Kevin Abstract
Kevin Abstract
Vocals
Matt Champion
Matt Champion
Vocals
Merlyn Wood
Merlyn Wood
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Clifford Ian Simpson
Clifford Ian Simpson
Songwriter
Dominic Simpson
Dominic Simpson
Songwriter
Jabari Manwarring
Jabari Manwarring
Songwriter
Matt Champion
Matt Champion
Songwriter
Romil Hemnani
Romil Hemnani
Songwriter
Russell Boring
Russell Boring
Songwriter
William Wood
William Wood
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Jabari Manwarring
Jabari Manwarring
Producer
Joba
Joba
Mixing Engineer
Romil Hemnani
Romil Hemnani
Recording Engineer

Songteksten

Pretty sure I'm maniacal, but what do I know? I don't know, all I know is what I see through my monocle That and the telescope keep one lens on the money flow The other's gold and complemental trusty, well, well I'm rollin' down hills in a suit through the mud Throw my dress shoes in a fire with the woods Sit back and relax with the fumes of Everything I hate in the world Play Mozart, smoke my cigar on My estate, keep the cars parked on the front lawn Neighbors hate, place duct tape underneath their tires And I wait Sun sets to blood moon horizons Left brain and right brain divided Set frames and watch plays inside them In the mountains now's where you'll find him I smell a breeze in the morning I feel your presence, it's warming I paid attention to warnings But we were too caught up in transforming Ghetto in here, flash it Ooh, them boys stay nasty Floatin' like Aladdin Them the ones you talkin' to Ghetto in here, flash it Ooh, them boys stay nasty Floatin' like Aladdin Them the ones you talkin' to Ghetto in here, flash it Ooh, them boys stay nasty Floatin' like Aladdin Them the ones you talkin' to Ghetto in here, flash it Ooh, them boys stay nasty Floatin' like Aladdin Them the ones you talkin' to Lucky days, I'm burnin' the four-cyl Your boy is dusty like brush up a fossil Hear that shit urk like the noise of a possum Bitch, I'm a king, I was born in the castle Built like a boxer, I'm ready to tussle Fuck on my baby, I'm ready to bust one Come fuck with me and my dawgs Hate on my ass like in-laws, uh That boy stay light like a cheerleader, um She want me filled like a two litre, um Eat it all day, watch it ricochet off Then I skrrt off on that Michelin, aw They don't got nothing on me 'til I pop They don't got nothing on me, call the cops I hit that run like a Heisman boy, run it back Look at that boy, hit that runnin' back Shout out to South Central, San Marcos I got addicted to soft shell tacos Got down to pennies and ramen noodles Now I see how hunger make a shooter Stamina, stamina I used to be holdin' the camera Head hit the glass, dog your window up Fans prayin' to me like my handle Cortana We like Wu-Tang, but I feel like Santana She's twerkin' just like she Hannah Montana Head was clean, Tony Fantano Made her my wife, uh She can't kick it, she's so Bella Confused erections Bad hoes know name brands, they brainless Ghetto in here, flash it Ooh, them boys stay nasty Floatin' like Aladdin Them the ones you talkin' to Ghetto in here, flash it Ooh, them boys stay nasty Floatin' like Aladdin Them the ones you talkin' to Ghetto in here, flash it Ooh, them boys stay nasty Floatin' like Aladdin Them the ones you talkin' to Ghetto in here, flash it Ooh, them boys stay nasty Floatin' like Aladdin Them the ones you talkin' to
Writer(s): Russell Evan Boring, Clifford Simpson, Jabari Manwarring, Dominique Simpson, William Anku Kraka Mawuli Ando Wood, Romil Hemnani, Matthew Garrett Champion Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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