Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Fredo Bang
Vocals
Mozzy
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Frederick Givens II
Songwriter
Martin McCurtis
Songwriter
Timothy Patterson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Helluva
Producer
hardbody Beazy
Mixing Engineer
Jess Jackson
Mastering Engineer
Songteksten
Made a hunnid bands, I say amen, yeah
Made it out the slums, I say amen
Tinted windows on that Caddy look like Ray Bans
Twisted fingers with the guys, ****, gang land
Amen, amen
Got it out the mud, I say amen
Amen, amen
Yeah, made it out the slums, I say amen
I got a milli sittin' pretty, that's a W
I might get a papercut while I try thumbin' through
I wrapped a plastic 'round a hunnid, look like rubber boots
Every **** on your TV call me Beetlejuice
Fuck with the real, so my bitch natural, can't pick and choose
Don't wear that polo, you get Dior if I'm feelin' you
Bring in your friend, I like to fuck my bitches by the two
RIP to Soulja Slim, done a nothin' take care of all of you
Rich as shit, they touch me up and down like button-ups
I probably go against the gang before I cup a slut
I'm just playin', but my dawg, it's forever love
I told her it ain't makin' love if I can't poke your butt
Made a hunnid bands, I say amen
Yeah, made it out the slums, I say amen
Tinted windows on that Caddy look like Ray Bans
Twisted fingers with the guys, ****, gang land
Amen, amen
Got it out the mud, I say amen
Amen, amen
Yeah, made it out the slums, I say amen
Twisted up my fingers gun-slangin', we the gang land
Gotta thank God that you woke up, 'cause you went to sleep in that cage jail
Late night to the a.m., we in lurk mode, thuggin'
Late night to the a.m., she in twerk mode, hustlin'
There's some dog shit in this function, baby, I fucks you, which you won't got
Grab a couple of your partners though, pull up on me and the squad
'Cause you got the right **** for the job, or one of them boys
Finna peel off in this MG, ain't enough, just one of the toys
Poppin' these pills, makin' me 'noid
We gettin' money, run up your coins
You know a real **** ain't goin'
Them **** hate, 'cause they can't enjoy
And fuck all the stank bitches I avoid
I gotta play out in Illinois
And probably gonna double back to the hood
But it's your blood, ****, buy Royce, ****
Gang land
Made a hunnid bands, I say amen
Yeah, made it out the slums, I say amen
Tinted windows on that Caddy look like Ray Bans
Twisted fingers with the guys, ****, gang land
Amen, amen
Got it out the mud, I say amen
Amen, amen
Yeah, made it out the slums, I say amen
Written by: Frederick Givens II, Martin McCurtis, Timothy Cornell Patterson