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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
K CAMP
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kristopher Campbell
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Bobby Kritical
Producer
Quavo
Producer
Lyrics
Bobby Kritical
Shawty got sex appeal
I'ma have my best, yeah
Lick on her flesh, yeah
Squeeze on her breasts, yeah
I need the big deals
I need the big wheels
Diamonds got big chill
Pop me a big pill
These niggas ain't real
Tell her how I feel
Life get unreal
This how I live
Everything A1, yeah
Hold weight, this a ton, yeah
Can't run out of fun, yeah
Me and you on the run, yeah (Let's go)
Shawty got pussy like water
I fell in love with your daughter
Foreign hoes, came from the bottom
Flip them hoes like a quarter (Flip)
Paper on a nigga like Harlem
I'ma let it ride like the model
Fuck around, you gon' get slaughtered
Got a nigga feelin' like Tha Carter (Yes, let's go)
Got too many hoes that be callin' my phone, but I'm focused on you
I be lookin' for you, I be textin' you, I be sexin' you (Sexin' you)
She got her own and she still in school
Lil' mama a fool, what's a player to do?
Can't look like a fool, I'm just playin' it cool
Shawty got sex appeal
I'ma have my best, yeah
Lick on her flesh, yeah
Squeeze on her breasts, yeah
I need the big deals
I need the big wheels
Diamonds got big chill
Pop me a big pill
These niggas ain't real
Tell her how I feel
Life get unreal
This how I live
Everything A1, yeah
Hold weight, this a ton, yeah
Can't run out of fun, yeah
Me and you on the run, yeah
Me and you on the run, yeah
Kick it with the B's like Bun, yeah
Can I get a piece of that bun? Yeah
Hottest nigga under the sun, yeah
Name hold weight, this a ton, yeah
Shawty think he hard with a gun, yeah
If shit pop off, he'll run, yeah
All them niggas ain't nothin', yeah
Balenciaga runners, no sprint though
Twenty-two hundreds for the Rick O
Twenty-two hundred ain't shit, ho
Twenty-two thrown on your bitch, woah (Bitch, woah)
Play with them racks, yeah
Fendi to match, yeah
They say that I'm back, yeah
Count it exact, yeah
Shawty got sex appeal
I'ma have my best, yeah
Lick on her flesh, yeah
Squeeze on her breasts, yeah
I need the big deals
I need the big wheels
Diamonds got big chill
Pop me a big pill
These niggas ain't real
Tell her how I feel
Life get unreal
This how I live
Everything A1, yeah
Hold weight, this a ton, yeah
Can't run out of fun, yeah
Me and you on the run, yeah
Writer(s): Bobby Bernard Turner, Jr., Kristopher Thomas Campbell, Wayy
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