Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Drakeo the Ruler
Vocals
Jay 305
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Darrell Caldwell
Songwriter
Breyshon Johnson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Duse Beatz
Producer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies
[Verse 2]
Try me? Please, you don't have enough uchies
Let alone enough groupies, I'm out with the broski
Tell me how you wanna do it, killers ride to my music
[Verse 3]
On God I can't think straight, a buck fifty on the e-way
They ain't never finna get me, they ain't never finna get me
But they can get a speed chase
Anything for uchies, tryna tell you I'm the ruler
Heads down when you speak to me
Get on your knees when you greet me, you know I got it in me
And then your attitude frivolous
Don't like pops in my business
Too many pops to beginning, I'm ridin' with a sentence
I'm all about the uchies, bumpin' hands with no one
They be actin' like they won't
Ten bands for a lawyer, that was just for him to speak to me
**** wanna write grievances
'Cause they hatin' on my nines, why they hatin' on my nines?
'Cause they huggin' on the block
I tried to tell you I'm the problem
[Verse 4]
Uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies
Uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies
Anything for the uchies
Anything for the uchies
Anything, anything
Anything for the uchies
Anything for the uchies
Anything, anything
Anything for the uchies
[Verse 5]
Midnight mission on my bullshit
Lookin' for some money and a cool bitch
Still gettin' money off of Youzza Flip
You lookin' like a bum, like a hipster bitch
Bummies, other people's money
Twelve years old, got beat up for servin' dummies
I love the uchi, goddamn I love the money
(Love the dinero, I love the money man)
My fave auntie was my favorite smoker
Taught me how to cook up shake and play poker
Let me hustle out her car to go to Oakland
Go stupid, got hyphy with the hustle
And I gotta love this Gat
I used to sell my lunch tickets, and hit the dice game
Oh, Drakeo, that's Mr. Get Dough
Jay 305, Mr. Mr. Good Dough
[Verse 6]
Uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies
Uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies
Anything for the uchies
Anything for the uchies
Anything, anything
Anything for the uchies
Anything for the uchies
Anything, anything
Anything for the uchies
[Verse 7]
Mr. Uchies, cold devil, it's life threatenin'
Chop a **** down for these pints, it's my medicine
If I want Chile, bye-bye, bitch you ain't gettin' nada
Keep the blood in your bottle, 'cause I never wore Prada
Bleed 'em, fuck it, these ****, I never need 'em
Ridin' in the Boondocks, you guys are stayin' in 'em
Blade team, ain't fuckin' him, ain't fuckin' me neither
A fake watch, a fake chain, on me there's neither
The same-teamer, this ****'s a meat beater
Silly Billy, call Shirley, ****, 'cause we leavin'
Twenty strips on the floor for any **** competin'
Jesus, somebody call a deacon
Threw so much money, shit, the alter need a clean
I should get a beatin', all this money I'm receivin'
Threw so much money, shit, the altar need a clean
'Cause bitch I'm gettin' uchies, believe it
[Verse 8]
Uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies
Uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies
Anything for the uchies
Anything for the uchies
Anything, anything
Anything for the uchies
Anything for the uchies
Anything, anything
Anything for the uchies
Written by: Breyshon D Johnson, Darrell Caldwell
