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Bizzy Banks - “30” (Official Music Video - WSHH Exclusive)
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Créditos

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Bizzy Banks
Bizzy Banks
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
majesty moses
majesty moses
Songwriter
Bashar Barakah Jackson
Bashar Barakah Jackson
Lyrics
Ricardo Lamarre
Ricardo Lamarre
Composer
Bradley "Ghosty" Moss
Bradley "Ghosty" Moss
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
DJ Tino
DJ Tino
Recording Engineer

Letra

Yo, we Brim, we Brim We Brim, we Brim, we Blood, uh, uh (Ghosty) We Blood, we Blood, we Blood Fuck everybody, fuck everybody (fuck everybody, get money) That's Structure, Bizzy Structure gang, Structure gang Duck (duck), pass me the sit'chy, I'm clutch (pass me the sit'chy, I'm...) Tell 'em, "Come spin my block" Tell 'em, "Come send them shots" (grrah, grrah) You ain't no shooter (shooter), uh You just tote that chop' You 'on't want beef, you just want some props I ain't get touched, how you my 'opp? (how you my 'opp?) Bitch, I'm too sauced (too sauced) No, I 'on't dance, the Glock in my pants The most I might do is the Woo walk (the most I might do is the Woo walk) And I know they mad, uh (I know they, uh) But please don't act silly (please don't act silly) If I spin in a black flag (grrah, grrah) They gon' think I'm a blicky (grrah, grrah, grrah, bah) Bitch, I'm a sleaze (sleaze) Give a fuck who you be (give a fuck who you be) Yeah, I fuck wit' them real niggas who fuckin' wit' me (y'all scared) Don't ask if I'm GDK (at all, at all) Nigga, I'm EBK (nigga, I'm EBK) Fuck the judge and the DEA (fuck the judge and the DEA) Suck dick if you feel a way (grrah, grrah) I'm a lil' body but I tote like a big body 'cause I put in that pain I walk with that lil' body but I back out that big body if you speak on my name These niggas know nothin' 'bout me but they gon keep talkin' bout me and that shit ain't gon' change I been in a cell, and ain't shit you can tell me If you ain't got hands, invest in 11's Toughest nigga in yo' squad gon' be tellin' Now all them niggas that be with me some felons I really talk on the beat If you not in the streets, you won't understand it (at all) I get the chop' and that nigga gon' panic Head shot, cause a whole lotta damage (uh) Head shot, cause a whole lotta damage Yeah, I got Leeky wit' me, Ruger wit' me, bitch We 'on't spin in no Ubers (at all) And I got Rilla wit' me, Juju wit' me, bitch We might hit ya' madula (grrah, grrah) You can't get busy wit' me, jiggy wit' me, demon wit' me, hundo' wit' me, uh The first nigga actin' silly, catch a figgy Pass the glizzy and just watch how he run (Watch how he...) Duck (duck), pass me the sit'chy, I'm clutch Tell 'em, "Come spin my block" Tell 'em, "Come send them shots" (grrah, grrah) You ain't no shooter (shooter), uh You just tote that chop' You 'on't want beef, you just want some props I ain't get touched, how you my 'opp? (how you my 'opp?) Bitch, I'm too sauced (too sauced) No, I 'on't dance, the Glock in my pants The most I might do is the Woo walk (the most I might do is the Woo walk) And I know they mad, uh (I know they, uh) But please don't act silly (please don't act silly) If I spin in a black flag (If I spin in a...) They gon' think I'm a blicky (grrah, grrah, boom) Structure, that's swag
Writer(s): Ricardo Lamarre, Bashar Barakah Jackson, Bradley Robert Moss, Majesty Moses Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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