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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Gloss Up
Gloss Up
Vocals
Hunxho
Hunxho
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jerrica Russell
Jerrica Russell
Songwriter
Ibrahim Muhammad Dodo
Ibrahim Muhammad Dodo
Songwriter
Kirsten Allyssa Spencer
Kirsten Allyssa Spencer
Songwriter
Gregory Patrick Lane
Gregory Patrick Lane
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
PatLacedThat
PatLacedThat
Co-Producer
Trajuan “Mixedbytra” Jackson
Mixing Engineer
Colin Leonard
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer

Songteksten

(PatLacedThat) what you runnin' for? You said you want some dick, what you runnin' for? You talkin' all that shit, what you runnin' for? You said you gon' hop on and do a split, well, what you runnin' for? Now come here, come here (I'm comin') Come here, come here (I'm comin') Come here, come here (I'm comin') Come here (yeah-yeah-yeah), come here (yeah-yeah-yeah, I'm comin', Glossy), come here Got some clappers out, got a bed, but he fuck me on the couch Like the way I ride his dick, but love the way I ride his mouth Like fuck what you talkin' 'bout? Bend it over, take you down Said you never met the neighbors, bet they know your name now With my yeah-yeah, ask him if he miss it, he like, "Hell yeah" Pussy grippin', drippin', ain't no slippin' once he in there Hands 'round my neck, arch my back and hit my stance Pussy pricey, but that hood nigga eat it up like food stamps Now come here, come here (I'm comin') Come here, come here (I'm comin') Come here, come here (I'm comin') Come here (yeah-yeah-yeah), come here (yeah-yeah-yeah, I'm comin'), come here I like how she move (move), she like how I fuck her (hmm) Never had shit, so when I pull out, burn rubber (woo) Tryna catch my bitch, these niggas funny, Chris Tucker Ooh, shit, he wan' be me, she wan' be her, I guess they like our movement Head, kill it, grip her head We don't even fuck on the bed no more, she wan' fuck on the jet I don't even be in the 'Vette no more, we fuck in TRX And she don't never wanna stop, we stop, she shake like it's Tourette's And she need sleep when we get dirty, mane, gave the bitch my best I call my bank, what's in the bank? I told my bank to send a check (check) When we fuck, she pull out dreads, seashell That pussy wet, seashell, eat it all, don't be scared, I turn her cheeks red Now come here, come here (I'm comin') Come here, come here (I'm comin') Come here, come here (I'm comin') Come here (yeah-yeah-yeah), come here (yeah-yeah-yeah, I'm comin', Glossy), come here Nigga talkin' 'bout runnin', who? I ain't even finna run from the police All these hoes mad, pissed, bet them hoes wanna be me Only wearin' thongs, but he know I'ma always keep shit brief I mean always keep shit P, thought he had a bad bitch on a leash She blowin' my phone, I turn it off 'cause this shit gettin' annoyin' You front him a bag, it's too much water, this shit can't be normal Go pick her up, ride through my block, just show her what I'm doin' Go drop her off, I'm finna go spin, then, baby, I'll be home What you runnin' for? You said you want some dick, what you runnin' for? You talkin' all that shit, what you runnin' for? You said you gon' hop on and do a split, well, what you runnin' for? Now come here, come here (I'm comin') Come here, come here (I'm comin') Come here, come here (I'm comin') Come here (yeah-yeah-yeah), come here (yeah-yeah-yeah, I'm comin'), come here
Writer(s): Gregory Patrick Lane, Ibrahim Muhammad Dodo, Jerrica Russell, Kirsten Allyssa Spencer Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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