Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Drake
Vocals
Asheley Turner
Background Vocals
Nas
Sampled Artist
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Allen Ritter
Songwriter
Asheley Turner
Songwriter
Matthew Jehu Samuels
Songwriter
D. Atkinson
Songwriter
Jean Claude Olivier
Songwriter
Anthony S. Cruz
Songwriter
Aubrey Drake Graham
Songwriter
HOLLINS TAVORIS JAVON
Songwriter
Inga Marchand
Songwriter
Mc Kay, Cory
Songwriter
Nasir Jones
Songwriter
Samuel Barnes
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Harley Arsenault
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Greg Moffet
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Ronald Moonoo
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Allen Ritter
Producer
Noel Cadastre
Recording Engineer
Quaz
Assistant Recording Engineer
Robbie Meza
Assistant Recording Engineer
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer
David "D.C." Castro
Assistant Mastering Engineer
Matthew Jehu Samuels
Producer
Noah Shebib
Recording Engineer
Noel Campbell
Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
Ayy, sick of these niggas (Sick)
Sick of these niggas (Sick, sick)
Hire some help (Help)
Get rid of these niggas (Skrr)
Sick of this shit, move to the Ritz
Turned out the bitch (Ayy)
It is what it is, yeah
GLE, 'cause that Lambo movin' fast (Skrr)
S Class, G Class, lotta class (Sss, sss)
In a rocket and that bitch ain't got no tags (Skrr, skrr)
Louis bags in exchange for body bags, yeah
I'm sick of these niggas (Sick)
Sick of these niggas (Sick, sick)
Hire some help (Help)
Get rid of these niggas (Grr)
Fuck what it was (What)
It is what it is (What)
Whatever you did, it is what it is
And I'm so tired (Tired)
I fuck with the mob and I got ties (Lotta ties, lotta ties)
Knock you off to pay their tithes (Do-doo)
They want me gone but don't know why
It's too late for all that lovey-dovey shit
I'm your brother shit, all that other shit
It's too late for all that
It's too late for all that, ayy
It's too late for all that lovey-dovey shit
I'm your brother shit, all that other shit
It's too late for all that, ayy
It's too late for all that
Ayy, sick of these niggas
I'm sick of these niggas
Hire some help
Get rid of these niggas
I'm not with the ra-ra
I am a Da-da
My bitch in Chanel now
Your bitch in Escada
(Sick, sick, sick, sick)
Yeah, and they shook
Please don't let them fool ya
I don't care how they look (Nah)
Heard all of the talkin'
Now it's quiet, now it's shush (Shh)
Twenty-nine is comin'
They on edge when I cook (Cook)
Lead the league in scorin'
Man, but look at my assists (Shh)
Yes I be with Future
But I like to reminisce (Yeah)
I do not forget a thing
I'm patient, it's a gift (yeah)
Try to tell 'em they ain't got to do it
They insist (They insist)
Yeah, I can tell
I just gave 'em two for forty million like Chappelle (Two)
Standin' over coffin with a hammer and a nail (two)
Heard you hit up so and so
That name don't ring a bell, nah
Sick of these niggas (Sick)
Hire some help
Get rid of these niggas
I'm sick of this shit (Ssick, sick)
I'm runnin' a blitz (Ayy)
Whatever you did (Ayy)
It is what it is
And I'm so tired (Tired)
I fuck with the mob and I got ties (Lotta ties, lotta ties)
Knock you off to pay their tithes (Do-doo)
They want me gone but don't know why
It's too late for all that lovey-dovey shit
I'm your brother shit
All that other shit
It's too late for all that
It's too late for all that, ayy
It's too late for all that lovey-dovey shit
I'm your brother shit
All that other shit
It's too late for all that, ayy
It's too late for all that
Writer(s): Travoris Hollins, Ashley Turner, Allen Ritter, Dave A. Atkinson, Cory Mckay, Matthew Jehu Samuels, Aubrey Drake Graham, Anthony S. Cruz, Inga D. Marchand, Nasir Jones, Samuel J. Barnes, Jean Claude Olivier
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com