Music Video

Big Sean - Even the Odds (feat. Young Thug) [Prod. By Metro Boomin]
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Big Sean
Big Sean
Vocals
Young Thug
Young Thug
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Leland Wayne
Leland Wayne
Songwriter
Earl Taylor
Earl Taylor
Songwriter
Jeffery Williams
Jeffery Williams
Songwriter
Sean Michael Anderson
Sean Michael Anderson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Metro Boomin
Metro Boomin
Producer
Gregg Rominiecki
Gregg Rominiecki
Recording Engineer
Maximilian Jaeger
Maximilian Jaeger
Recording Engineer
Ethan Stevens
Ethan Stevens
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Bitch, this ain't no boss it's a boss up Bitch, this ain't for sure, this a toss up Bitch, this ain't Toyota, this European Bitch she ain't no hoe, she my girlfriend Bitch, this ain't is no nap, this how I sleep Bitch, this ain't no hobby, this how I eat Bitch, this ain't lust so it's love Bitch, this ain't the connect, this the plug Bitch, this ain't beef, this world war Bitch, this ain't a show it's a world tour Bitch, you don't know me, yeah you knew me Bitch, this ain't the problem, this the solution Feeling like my chakras aligned From now on call me Don Rhyming for days, I couldn't eat and it was not Ramadan Niggas asking for a cut, they just way out of line Thugger Hoe, ain't no Ford, this a Maserati This is not a movie, baby, this a real dead body I'm on a one-way street, 'bout to have a trolley I fuck her one night then I'ma duck up outta You do anything for this 'lil bitch you might be a Cosby Speaking of Bill Cosby, I spike my drink with molly You better not tell nobody, zip it, just zips and addy Hit from the back, turn to a car when I'm backing out it Hit it with 10, fuck it, I'ma go smack his body Hit 'em up like Did 'em up like Hit 'em up like Bitch, this ain't a boss this a boss up Bitch, this isn't for sure, this a toss up Hoe, this ain't Toyota, this European Bitch, she ain't a hoe, she's my girlfriend Bitch, this ain't time, this is our time Bitch, this isn't the plug, this the power line Bitch this ain't Diesel, this Gucci It's Gucci Bitch, you ain't know me now you know me (yeah) Bitch, this ain't Adidas this Puma Bitch, that ain't the truth that's a rumor Bitch, you ain't my friend you a tumor Bitch, that ain't the new one, this newer Bitch, this ain't fourth-quarter, it's crunch time Now foul lines, just front lines Fuck taking shit, boy, I just take what's mine And I'm still hungry like a nigga was unsigned Don't nobody want this shit more than I want mine Fuck a free meal, boy, I'd rather go hunt mine When you get the ball, boy, you be fumbling When you talk that shit be mumbling Man, I got my one shot Fucked around and and-one'd it If the dogs ain't there then they one call from it, look Run you out your house and now your ass apartment hunting From the Michigan cold, and I'm colder than that Don't fuck with my crazy ass, boy Your mama should've told you that When we in it, one way out This life just like a cul de sac The hood behind me like a cobra back You quote the internet, I quote the facts But snake niggas never tell the truth You a liar If you swear to God one more time on your life you might die Real ones, I know you feel me Independent women, I know you feel me If you self-made me then you feel me Text from my girl said "Come feel me up" Real dawgs, I know you feel me My OG's know they feel me, yeah Bad bitch, she want to feel me Text from my girl said "Come feel me up" If Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you
Writer(s): Josh Powell, Adele Roberts Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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