Vídeo de música

Créditos

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Lil Yachty
Lil Yachty
Rap
J. Cole
J. Cole
Rap
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Miles Parks McCollum
Miles Parks McCollum
Songwriter
Reginald D. Griffin
Reginald D. Griffin
Songwriter
Jermaine Cole
Jermaine Cole
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Lil Yachty
Lil Yachty
Producer
Rawbone
Rawbone
Producer
98k
98k
Producer
Thomas “Tillie” Mann
Mixing Engineer
Gentuar Memishi
Gentuar Memishi
Recording Engineer
Colin Leonard
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer

Letra

Yeah Allegedly, they figured out that I'm the secret recipe The baddest - gon' test the E, then blame the high for wantin' - I never wanted peace, f- all the opps, I support Malcolm X The stack of chains is just a front Overtaxed and underwhelming, your jeweler pulled a major stunt I don't smoke weed, already blunt, all of my cars, I had to hunt My doggy young as hell but still'll step, we call him baby runt Like window shoppers, I see through every front I speak on what I need, I foresee everything I want I block out anything I hate and still the hardest, still unpaid The notice went unseen, the tenants too relaxed The standards have collapsed, they wrote me in with lames They treat me like I'm them, they hate I overcame Refuse to pat my back, refuse to shake my hand Refuse to give me props when I am not around Refuse to act like I ain't shift the sound, like I ain't push the culture Like several vultures ain't come after me Like several vultures ain't come after me, still, I keep it P Yeah, we still digress, and I'm playin' checkers, I ain't playin' chess 'Cause I don't go 'round on -, we go over - I'll show you -, I'm personally nothin' like ya and plus I never liked you I'm rich as hell, I'd never fight you, I'll have somebody snipe you My doggy lucky on the edge, holdin' on by a thread Just like a kite, it wouldn't cost a price And even if it did, it always be right, just like I'm Bob Barker When I speak, pay attention, go over my words like highlight markers My only celebrity crush is Nikki Parker They said, "I got a type," said, "All my -, they look the same" They said, "They look too light" Peep my cup, bet you couldn't tell that it was Sprite I give a - about her face, she walkin' with a bamski, I'ma strike (Yeah) I'ma strike (it's us) I'ma strike, uh Cole and Yachty, comin' for they respect, come and pay your debt Just like a travel pillow, we at your neck for the way you slept This nuance, but I see hella influence in the way you dress The way you sound, the way you try to move You try to stay abreast on all the latest flows and latest tones from Generation X Y'all chasing relevance, it's evidenced by the way you step As for me, I cook so masterfully, ain't gotta pay a chef I'm older now, but still, I'm cuttin' edge, I'm like a bayonet From out the 'Ville, we OSHA certified, you gotta wear your vest Too many homicides, a lot of slidin', they good at makin' decks Thanks to God, I made it out the city, most would say I'm blessed My greatest flex is that I made a milli', feel like I'm Bangladesh I hate the press, refusin' interviews whenever they request N- fake-progressive and woke, I started sayin' less I had to stop it, peeped how they profit off of racial stress Some activists got so rich, they prolly wish we stay oppressed Studio steppers movin' extra on songs, fakin' rep Only breakin' bad in the lab, thought y'all was makin' meth N- makin' threats and I laugh, that's 'cause you ain't a threat Don't ask how I feel 'bout no rappers, -, they okay, I guess Incomin' call, press the button, the one that say accept He FaceTime to ask for a feature and saw the face of death I'm on your song, your streams goin' up, not quite the Drake effect But don't complain, -, take what you get and cut the label check My table set, I dine on your favorite, one verse'll take his breath I prolly put more n- on pause than Cam and Mason Beth My agent get a whole lot of calls, it's like he paid the ref These b- out here lookin' like Steph on the late contest Wide open, shootin' they shot, don't even waste your breath I been stop f- you thots, ain't got no patience left Save that - for one of them n- that rock the fake Pateks My paper stretched just like a Laker before he break a sweat Signed, the greatest yet
Writer(s): Miles Parks Mccollum, Reginald D. Griffin, Cole Jermaine L Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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