Músicas semelhantes
Créditos
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Isaiah Rashad
Vocals
Doechii
Vocals
Kal Banx
Programming
Rory Behr
Programming
Amaire Johnson
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jaylah Hickmon
Songwriter
Rory Behr
Songwriter
Amaire Johnson
Songwriter
Isaiah Rashad
Songwriter
Kalon Berry
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Kal Banx
Co-Producer
Demitrius Lewis II
Assistant Mastering Engineer
Anthony Tiffith
Executive Producer
Rory Behr
Mixing Engineer
Nicolas De Porcel
Mastering Engineer
Amaire Johnson
Producer
Aaron Bow
Sound Design
Teddy Walton
Sound Design
James Hunt
Mixing Engineer
Letra
Who the pilot?
And my bitch, she hit me up while I'm driving
And I swear it's a show, not a riot
Uh
I was tripping, you was tripping, who the pilot?
And my bitch, hit me up while I'm driving
And I swear it's a show, not a riot
And I had a nightmare last night that I wasn't counting up
We had too many hoes in this bitch, I had to round 'em up
And I had too many hoes in my face, I had to cut 'em off
I been focused on my one-on-one
And I hope your pussy good as my bank account (what you said?)
Ayy, bitch, can I break you off? Trunk waving at the mall
Hoes on your side of town hate when they ain't involved
Geeked on my brudda pack, beat, and I'm overcharged (yeah)
Hurt when I'm serving in it, spread like the word of God
Fuck what a nigga do, reach for some inner peace
Geeked on my side of town, dope when I'm sliding down
Ghost when I'm sliding down, Ghost when I'm sliding down
Porsche when I'm sliding down (what you said?)
All the hoes with the shorts in ya ass
And you got the D'USSÉ falling out your glass
Oh man, I don't want ya in the club
'Cause your pussy popping start fights in the club
Come through in your new rental car
Bitches all in your face 'cause you a star
And you come with 'bout four-five hoes
Down to fight anything straight out the door
Full, but I make him eat up, yeah, yeah, yeah (on go)
Drunk, but I make him drink up, yeah, yeah, yeah (he gone)
Real, I don't wanna sneak up, yeah, yeah (he gone)
He pop pills, but I make him geek up, yeah, yeah, yeah (grrah)
Drunk on a Saturday, hoes are mad, hoes are mad (hoes are mad)
Dirt, it go that-a-way, hope it's bad, hope it's fast (hope it's bad)
Feel real when you grind (yeah), real when you shine (yeah)
Drunk, drunk, drunk on a Saturday (on the way)
Looking back when you spazz with your curls and your ass out
Bad like the girl from the album with ANTI
Keep a bag, pop a tag, go and let it air out
Drop it fast, let it spazz, go and let your hair down
Shush when I say I get it done, when they sneak, I see up
Flip a pack and make it burn, when it done, I link up
Get ahead like you a geek, show no face if you discreet
Come and put the drink on me if you wanna link up (what you said?)
All the hoes with the shorts in ya ass
And you got the D'USSÉ falling out your glass
Oh man, I don't want ya in the club
'Cause your pussy popping start fights in the club
Come through in your new rental car
Bitches all in your face 'cause you a star
And you come with 'bout four-five hoes
Down to fight anything straight out the door
Writer(s): Amaire Johnson, Isaiah Mcclain, Kalon Berry, Jaylah Hickmon, Rory Behr
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com