album cover
EVERYBODY EATS
93
Hip-Hop/Rap
Трек «EVERYBODY EATS» вышел в 30 января 2026 г. г. на альбоме « » (лейбл «MNRK Records LP»)STUDIO 54
album cover
АльбомSTUDIO 54
Дата релиза30 января 2026 г.
ЛейблMNRK Records LP
LanguageEnglish
Мелодичность
Акустичность
Валанс
Танцевальность
Энергия
BPM77

Создатели

ИСПОЛНИТЕЛИ
Warhol.SS
Warhol.SS
Вокал
МУЗЫКА И СЛОВА
Zahir Myles
Zahir Myles
Автор песен
ПРОДЮСЕРЫ И ЗВУКОРЕЖИССЕРЫ
Dilla
Dilla
Миксинг-инженер
Kev "No Credit" Spencer
Kev "No Credit" Spencer
Мастеринг-инженер
MitchGoneMad
MitchGoneMad
Продюсер
Wessgonemad
Wessgonemad
Продюсер
Brandon Mitchell
Brandon Mitchell
Продюсер
Spencer Jewesson
Spencer Jewesson
Продюсер

Слова

[Intro]
Uh, yeah
Uh, uh, yeah, yeah
Uh
[Chorus]
You see my bitch and prolly think I'm stressing bad (Bad)
Wake up, run through bags (Bags)
I done lost triple what **** had (Triple)
Out of space cadet like Pluto Nash (Aye)
Went against that shit and got him dragged
Got 'em patched in, ended bad
They know me and I know ball, so when I wager, know it's leverage (Yeah)
Lil' bro got ten milli', fold **** up like number seven (Uh)
Rollin' nothin' but pain, inhale death, I put up damage (Damage)
All my **** eating like Bruh Man, I made a sandwich
[Verse 1]
Pop out, traffic, all my shorties strapped, no Travis Barker, aye
****'s opinion nothin', he scared to try, I try harder, aye
Played this shit back twice, he caught game, I'm Ted talkin', damn
'Raq baby, everything a go, I don't stop and I ain't pausing, aye
I ain't for none of that small talk, they askin', I can't call it
Waist Deep Tyrese, I end feuds and hit targets
Way too rich for arguments, you can tell it by my posture
Thank God I'm made me, I make commas, he make nada, ****
[Chorus]
You see my bitch and prolly think I'm stressing bad (Bad)
Wake up, run through bags
I done lost triple what **** had
These **** had
Out of space cadet like Pluto Nash (Aye)
Went against that shit and got him dragged
Got 'em patched in, ended bad (Aye)
They know me and I know ball, so when I wager, know it's leverage
Lil' bro got ten milli', fold **** up like number seven
Rollin' nothin' but pain, inhale death, I put up damage (Damage)
All my **** eating like Bruh Man, I made a sandwich
[Outro]
Pop out, traffic, all my shorties strapped, no Travis Barker, aye
Played this shit back twice, he caught game, I'm Ted talkin', aye
Written by: Zahir Myles
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