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Top de canções de Icewear Vezzo
Canções semelhantes
Créditos
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Icewear Vezzo
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Chivez Smith
Songwriter
Branden Cox
Songwriter
Tyree Simmons
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Cashout Beats
Producer
Letra
Yeah-yeah-yeah
(Cashout, what it do-do-do?)
Ooh
Ooh, wee
Hmm
Phew, phew, huh
Iced Out Records
I been turnt, geeked for like two days, so I can't say much
She gon' let me fuck 'cause on the way, ho, I can't pay nothin'
I just bought two Richard's and one chain, cost like eight some'
Switchin' lanes, I be state-to-state just like Salomon
A stick on me, bitch, I got that tool, I'm tryna fix some'
Gang members, don't call me big bro, I ain't your big brother
On the road, finna catch some plays, it's like I'm hitchhiking
He switchin' sides, get that boy some shoes 'cause they be flip-floppin'
Baby choppa, hangin' in my pants, no I got big joggins
Jewelry dancin', they pull out they phone just like I'm TikTokin'
She a freaky, I pull down my pants, she suck the lint off me
Hit her on the call, she got good brain, yeah, that's a big noggin
Just for me to walk in and show my chain, I need a fifty (fifty)
We got yellow Whitney, Bobby Brown, New Edition
I like four Alisha's, four Onika's, yeah, that's Nicki (Nicki)
A show at MSU, them college girl gon' show them titties (phew, titties)
Hmm, yeah, they can't fuck with me (they can't fuck with me)
Hmm, yeah, they can't fuck with me (not at all)
Huh, what, they can't fuck with me (ooh, fuck with me)
Phew, bitch, they can't fuck with me (they can't fuck with me)
Money, cars, and hoes, cash and clothes, a lot of Wock' pints
In the Uris geekin', I just threw up at the stop light
You know you want my chain, you reach for that we throwin' shots, right
Why you postin' poles all on the 'net? 'Cause you the cop type
Light skin, let her eat the meat up, look like Mia (Mia)
Mary Kate Ashley, not Tamera, oh, that's Tia, huh
Called up doll, she back of the Maybach with my feet up
Flexin' type, lovin' basketball, she just got D'd up, huh
On a private jet, smokin' 'Woods, just rolled a P up
Told them fuck boys hang up they jerseys, nigga, we up
I be walkin' shit on all my songs, fuck the beat up
I let fifty thousand fly in Truth, that shit is peanuts (peanuts)
Phew, mmm, yeah, they can't fuck with me (they can't fuck with me, they can't fuck with me)
Hmm, yeah, they can't fuck with me (they can't fuck with me, fuck with me)
Huh, what, they can't fuck with me (not at all)
Phew, bitch, they can't fuck with me (they can't fuck with me, they can't fuck with me)
Writer(s): Branden Cox
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