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PERFORMING ARTISTS
Lil Keed
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Lohitvishnu Thanaskodi
Songwriter
Raqhid Render
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
YoungBoyBrown
Producer
Letra
Legendary
What it do, boy?
Keed, talk to 'em (let's go)
Reminiscing 'bout these old days (old days)
Realize I came a long way (long way)
I'ma always get that paper, no break (uh-uh)
I got all type of water on my neck
Just like a lake (all type of water)
Niggas talkin' and it's fiction they just wanna hate (they be talkin')
I row these hoes in like I'm fishin', money was the bait (money was the object)
I had to run racks up, keep it on me, uh-huh (uh-huh)
Hoe tryna duck me, tryna cut up, bitch, uh-uh (let that hoe go)
Yeah, I'm tryna get a bag, yeah, get a bag, yeah, where I'm from (I'm tryna get a bag)
Nah boy, there ain't nothin' passin' these junkie
Niggas, these chromes (ain't nothin', junkie niggas, chrome)
Nah, bitch, it ain't nothin', I'ma keep smokin', blow my lungs
Nah, bitch, it ain't nothin', we can get smoke, we can get it on
Nah, bitch, it ain't nothin', young slime ridin' with 'em, ride roof
Nah, bitch, it ain't nothin', count a bankroll 'til the early mornin'
Yeah-eah-eah-eah
Oh yeah
All of 'em built soft
Oh-oh
Let's go
Yeah, bitch
Weighin' up this hard on this motherfuckin' scale, bitch
Yeah, I was stickin' around to wait for that exotic to come through the mail, bitch
Young nigga Scooby Scoob, go and get some money, nigga, 'fore the bail hit
A nigga havin' pressure on these hoes, but you know slime fuckin' bad shit
Finna ball me into a superstar, ain't nothin' 'bout me average
Got big drip, yeah, real drip, shit niggas ain't even havin'
I put a big clip on a big chip, and you know slime get to smashin'
Yeah-eah
Reminiscing 'bout these old days (old days)
Realize I came a long way (long way)
I'ma always get that paper, no break (uh-uh)
I got all type of water on my neck
Just like a lake (all type of water)
Niggas talkin' and it's fiction they just wanna hate (they be talkin')
I row these hoes in like I'm fishin', money was the bait (money was the object)
I had to run racks up, keep it on me, uh-huh (uh-huh)
Hoe tryna duck me, tryna cut up, bitch, uh-uh (let that hoe go)
Yeah, I'm tryna get a bag, yeah, get a bag, yeah, where I'm from (I'm tryna get a bag)
Nah boy, there ain't nothin' passin' these junkie
Niggas, these chromes (ain't nothin', junkie niggas, chrome)
Nah, bitch, it ain't nothin', I'ma keep smokin', blow my lungs
Nah, bitch, it ain't nothin', we can get smoke, we can get it on
Nah, bitch, it ain't nothin', young slime ridin' with 'em, ride roof
Nah, bitch, it ain't nothin', count a bankroll 'til the early mornin'
Yeah-eah-eah-eah (let's go)
Oh yeah
All of 'em built soft
Oh-oh
Oh yeah
Oh, oh
Writer(s): Andy Thelusma, W. Gibbs, Wesley E. Weston, Philip Bernard, Gravy Train
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