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Future & Lil Uzi Vert - She Never Been To Pluto [Official Audio]
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Future
Future
Vocals
Lil Uzi Vert
Lil Uzi Vert
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Brandon Terrell Veal
Brandon Terrell Veal
Songwriter
Nayvadius Wilburn
Nayvadius Wilburn
Songwriter
Pierre Thevenot
Pierre Thevenot
Songwriter
Symere Woods
Symere Woods
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Eric Manco
Eric Manco
Mixing Engineer
Brandon Finessin
Brandon Finessin
Producer
Lukrative
Lukrative
Producer
Bryan Anzel
Bryan Anzel
Recording Engineer

Songteksten

Woah Woah Woah (Ayy, Brandon, man, why you do that?) Kick a bitch out like toodles (toodles) Lobster on my plate, came a long way from noodles (from noodles) My pockets gettin' bigger than a sumo (woah) Baby Sasuke, whippin' up Naruto (Sasuke) Clap it up, give a young nigga kudos (kudos) I remember I was with your bitch, she was coolin', yeah (yeah) She was kickin' shit with me like judo (judo) Knock it out the park, home run, Albert Pujols (yeah) She ain't never never been to Pluto, yeah (woah) Young nigga stay in the same drama, uh Fuckin' on another nigga baby mama, uh Got a hood bitch named Shayanna (yeah) Got a Draco, the A with the K out it, uh (yeah) I shoot the three like I'm Ray Allen (yeah, yeah) Ayy, the trap, I can't stay out it (uh, yeah) My niggas, they used to pray out it, yeah We got lot of bands, I turned to a bandit, yeah I just popped a half and I'm not landin', yeah I just know she bad and she too savage (yeah) Everything I do is outstanding (yeah) Everything on me Balenci' (Balenci', yeah) Balenci', Balenci', Balenci (let's go, let's go) Balenci', Balenci', Balenci (Balenci', Balenci') This Rollie don't do no tick-ticky (no ticky) My diamonds hit back like a Frisbee (Frisbee) And none of my bitches is picky (picky) Pat in love with my coupe like it's Missy (woah) I might just go cop a new cul-de-sac Fuck on your bitch and put that ho to bed These niggas broke, no, they don't got no bread (yeah) I done carried the game, I ain't weak in my legs (I carried the game) What? Weak in my legs, with your bitch, yeah Fuck on your ho and she givin' me head After I'm done, put that lil' bitch to bed, heard what I said? (Yeah) Order up a shooter and I pull up a sniper My bro pull up and he shootin' the rifle (yeah) We smash out and swerve in the Viper My jacket made out of tiger (rawr) My cars made out carbon fiber (yeah) Foreign whip, pull up beside you (foreign) Bitch, we done shot up the opps (the opps) Them niggas dead on arrival (bow) Might as well go outer space on these hoes Might as well go outer space (how?) Tell me when you ready, yeah Tell me when you ready (go), yeah Push the Rolls-Royce like a Chevy (skrrt) And I got a horse like Billy Ray Cyrus (skrrt, skrrt) Bando to bando to bando I'm havin' a seizure with the Draco, slidin' (brr) Young 'dem came through and sprayed up the spot You hear, "Kaboom" on me, then you hear sirens Runnin' the road like Boston, Georgia, Diego, I can't hide it (Freebandz) Started out runnin' with the goonies, now I got no stylist, a nigga stylish Should've put your bitch in the boonies where you can't find her, 'cause when we find her (go) I know I'm goin' bezerko, that's for-sure-ski, look at my shirt (for-sure-ski) I know I'm goin' satin and silk Hermès on my curtains, yeah Bustdown baguettes, put on my wrist and my chest, I'm getting so wet (skrrt) Comin' correct, you already know how niggas comin', the drum hold a fifth (woo) Turn up, yeah, gotta keep that track (turn up) Tell me when you're ready, yeah Diamonds all baguetties, yeah Got a bad-ass bitch, yeah (woo) I just took her from a lame (yeah) Chopped her like hedges I line that shit up like edges (line 'em up) I wrap the bill up like a presi' I got my side bitch tryna go steady I put these carats on my ring Ain't tryna marry no bitch 'til I'm ready (hey) Man, that pretty lil' shit, I done stabbed in it Hit the dougie in it, then I dabbed in it A stallion draped in medallion, but her Ferrari Italian I'm out of here, all the way out of here Baby Pluto all the way out of here I'm stylin' you, baby, I'm stylin' you Lacing you up in designer gear I'm proud of you, nigga, you droppin' them bodies You get you a Bird membership A gang of niggas gon' go up when I go up I can't forget 'em (gang)
Writer(s): Nayvadius Wilburn, Symere Woods, Brandon Terrell Veal, Pierre Elliott Thevenot Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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