Vídeo da música
Créditos
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
John Anthony Morehead
Songwriter
Letra
Fuck you mean, fuck you mean
Fuck you mean, fuck you mean
Fuck you mean, fuck you mean
Fuck you mean
All these hoes wan' fuck with me
'Cause I got racks in these dollar jeans
Do not disturb don't bother me
Why your baby mama tryna swallow me
And I'm still shopping at the Dollar Tree
Fuck you mean
Fuck you mean
Fuck you mean
Fuck you mean, fuck you mean
Fuck you mean, fuck you mean
Fuck you mean, fuck you mean
Fuck you mean
All these hoes wan' fuck with me
'Cause I got racks in these dollar jeans
Do not disturb don't bother me
Why your baby mama tryna swallow me
And I'm still shopping at the Dollar Tree
Fuck you mean
Fuck you mean
Fuck you mean
Fuck is you saying lil bitch
Fuck is you saying lil bitch
Y'all boys ain't tryna get rich
Y'all boys ain't get lit
Shawty get lit for a picture
She tryna tatt my initials
She put her snap on the Tinder
Got some good head to remember
Got good grams on deck
Purp on me like Shaq
Boy I move weight, like I was tryna lose sum fat
Ain't nun' sweet in my pack
Ion get foul, I hack
When I get profit, can't spend all that
Make back half tryna fill my stack
Chicken wing dinner coming in all flats
Aye, roll up, throw up, more, dough up
You just, like me, cuz I, glowed up
More money showers for head top
Baby say she want me to make her bed rock
Hoes like birds when the bread out
Hoes like birds when the bread out
Fuck you mean, fuck you mean
Fuck you mean, fuck you mean
Fuck you mean, fuck you mean
Fuck you mean
All these hoes wan' fuck with me
'Cause I got racks in these dollar jeans
Do not disturb don't bother me
Why your baby mama tryna swallow me
And I'm still shopping at the Dollar Tree
Fuck you mean
Fuck you mean
Fuck you mean
Writer(s): John Morehead
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