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Créditos
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Sleepy Hallow
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Sleepy Hallow
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Great John
Producer
Letra
How old was he?
He was eleven, eleven, what was he like when he was a little little kid?
He was a sweet little kid, he wasn't violent and he wasn't bad
The way the get, the way they talking about him now that's not, it's not true
Like when you say, every time someone says something they change it around
He was this and he was that and I know that he was not
Great John on the beat by the way
Introduce him to the clip
Run up wit him, then you duckin' with him
Better make a move or you get hit
Ain't no Uber, choppa make him lift
Boy, don't act stupid, I'll take a risk
Ain't no pick or choose, your whole clique
Gotta get it, when we catch him, it's lit
When we catch him, it's
Look
Your bitch heard we got the juice, now she wanna sip
Roll up a spliff, I'm back and I'm grippin' the tool
That's your homie, get shot up with you
Too official, you know that the gang with it
They don't love me, just look for who came with it
Couple seconds, we hittin' the game winner
Still the same, you know ain't no change in us
You can't hit the block without a strap
You be lucky if you made it back
What's a big dog to a cat?
Don't get me pissed off, it's a wrap
Look, don't make me catch a case this summer
I'ma need some space, thirty on my waist
Ain't no mistakes this summer
Ain't no mistakes this summer
Don't make me catch a case this summer
I'ma need some space, thirty on my waist
Ain't no mistakes this summer
Ain't no mistakes this summer
They gon' be mad, upset
Laser tag if I pull out the TEC
I don't brag, I put on for the set
I'ma outcast, so they say I'm a threat
Free Cease, free Mani and Fresh
Billie Kid, lil' bro make a mess
Shit could get nasty
Niggas tellin' like they Sammie
I feel like John Gotti of the family
Little money come in handy
I feel like don't nobody understand me
You ain't really what you say you is
You be actin', here's a Grammy
I don't tell 'em what I really did, so don't ask me, put it past me
And I don't care who he say he is, I'll pop a nigga like some acne
And I don't care who he say he is, I'll pop a nigga like some acne
Introduce him to the clip
Run up wit him, then you duckin' with him
Better make a move or you get hit
Ain't no Uber, choppa make him lift
Boy, don't act stupid, I'll take a risk
Ain't no pick or choose, your whole clique
Gotta get it, when we catch him, it's lit
When we catch him it's look, look
Don't make me catch a case this summer
I'ma need some space, thirty on my waist
Ain't no mistakes this summer
Ain't no mistakes this summer
Don't make me catch a case this summer
I'ma need some space, thirty on my waist
Ain't no mistakes this summer
Ain't no mistakes this summer
Writer(s): Jeremy Soto, Johnathan Scott, Karel Jorge, Tegan Chambers
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com