Music Video

New Ones (feat. Quando Rondo) (Bonus Track)
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Featured In

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ALBUMThe Backend ChildNoCap
Listen to Quando Rondo Essentials featuring NoCap
PLAYLISTQuando Rondo EssentialsApple Music
Listen to Tay Keith: Producers Represent featuring NoCap
PLAYLISTTay Keith: Producers RepresentApple Music
Listen to Damar Hamlin: Against All Odds featuring NoCap
PLAYLISTDamar Hamlin: Against All OddsApple Music
Listen to WassupBans: The Producers featuring NoCap
PLAYLISTWassupBans: The ProducersApple Music Hip-Hop
Listen to SephGotTheWaves: The Producers featuring NoCap
PLAYLISTSephGotTheWaves: The ProducersApple Music Hip-Hop

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
NoCap
NoCap
Vocals
Quando Rondo
Quando Rondo
Vocals
SephGotTheWaves
SephGotTheWaves
Programming
Vicasso
Vicasso
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Joseph Boyden
Joseph Boyden
Songwriter
Kobe Crawford
Kobe Crawford
Songwriter
Tyquian Bowman
Tyquian Bowman
Songwriter
Victor Todd Jr
Victor Todd Jr
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
SephGotTheWaves
SephGotTheWaves
Producer
Vicasso
Vicasso
Producer

Lyrics

(Vicasso on another one) Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (SephGotTheWaves) Whoa Oh, I I run around with them same niggas, I ain't thinkin' about hangin' with new ones I'll go dig up them old rods, I ain't thinkin' about buyin' no new guns Stuck in the hood, this where my niggas died, kinda hard for me to move on I'm tryna win, I ain't tryna see no tie, I ain't tryna put no suit on I can buy a hundred steaks and I still won't meet the cops My jewelry Frosted Flakes, I barely got time to see my pops For the nigga who murdered Slim, no doorbell, I'ma knock 'em off I'ma put this Glock to work, I just pray to God that he get out, yeah, yeah Nigga damn near thought about killin' myself 'cause I ain't wanna turn 12 When I was in the water drownin' with them sharks, they was thinkin', "Oh, well" High-speed chase, went and got a room with my bitch, thinkin', "Will my ho tell?" Me and Joe Dirt locked in for life, like we ain't got no bail I'ma bring my mask out (brrah) then go hunt for the opps, no Easter See, my bank account got a new balance, I ain't talkin' about no sneaker Spray 'em down with Clorox, then make the haters go sit on the bleachers No new friends like two twins, I still run with the same people I run around with them same niggas, I ain't thinkin' about hangin' with new ones I'll go dig up them old rods, I ain't thinkin' about buyin' no new guns Stuck in the hood, this where my niggas died, kinda hard for me to move on I'm tryna win, I ain't tryna see no tie, I ain't tryna put no suit on I can buy a hundred steaks and I still won't meet the cops My jewelry Frosted Flakes, I barely got time to see my pops For the nigga who murdered Slim, no doorbell, I'ma knock 'em off I'ma put this Glock to work, I just pray to God that he get out, yeah, yeah Yeah, throwed all my kicks away I got trust issues (yeah), throwed all my kicks away Even my Christian Loubs, but, ay, that's how it be I just didn't see it in you (didn't see it in you) If I smoke cigarettes by the pack I still won't play like it's cool (play like it's cool) I wanna take a trip to Arizona 'Cause all I think about is how I'ma put my hood on like Trayvon In my zone, they tote automatics I'ma tear Burnsville down and I'ma name my projects AutoZone Last night I couldn't hear, I was too busy thinkin' 'bout death Water deep, I shoulda been Michael after all this pain I felt, yeah Everybody around me armed, like they ain't got no legs I told 'em to bear with me, but I had lost a couple Teds I seen so many starvin', they took chances and went fed Dreams of BET, but I'm still in the hood tryna catch a bet Spend a couple thousand on shoes, it's cool, we'll get it back tomorrow Runnin' with the same niggas since I was little, so we gon' pull up in Ferraris I run around with them same niggas, I ain't thinkin' about hangin' with new ones I'll go dig up them old rods, I ain't thinkin' about buyin' no new guns Stuck in the hood, this where my niggas died, kinda hard for me to move on I'm tryna win, I ain't tryna see no tie, I ain't tryna put no suit on I can buy a hundred steaks, and I still won't meet the cops My jewelry Frosted Flakes, I barely got time to see my pops For the nigga who murdered Slim, no doorbell, I'ma knock 'em off I'ma put this Glock to work, I just pray to God that he get out, yeah, yeah
Writer(s): Tyquian Bowman, Kobe Crawford, Joseph Boyden, Victor Todd Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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