Music Video

Credits

COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Waylen Fairclough
Waylen Fairclough
Songwriter
Jazz Johnson
Jazz Johnson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Waylen Fairclough
Waylen Fairclough
Additional Engineer
Wonderlust
Wonderlust
Producer
Zian Mizan
Zian Mizan
Mixing Engineer
Noah Williams
Noah Williams
Creative Director

Lyrics

SD, STKHM Oh my god Oh my god Get em, Reggii Right, right Wood tip wine black Talk shit get smacked Your face deserves hand backs My palm too good for that My palm too good for that Wood tip wine black Talk shit get smacked Your face deserves hand backs My palm too good for that My palm too good for that Niggas threatening via text Where them bullets at Talking shit but don't pull up Where they do that at Bitch, I rep the south til I die Even if i leave You the type to switch up on somebody You said fuck the team Acting like you want the smoke But you scared of the flames Bitch, I am a pyro And my shrink thinks I'm insane I'm not scared to run it I came up 'round crips who bang And where I'm from You can't make them threats like it's a game I'm not dropping names But you know who you are Let the fam take the fall For your weed in your car Put no money on his bail Got the nerve to complain Talking 'bout you want the fade Bitch, I'll leave you in pain I been best friends with your girl Way before she met you She had her suspicions But, then I learned the truth Cat's outta the bag We all know that you cheat Sent emails after she blocked your phone number You weak Wood tip wine black Talk shit get smacked Your face deserves hand backs My palm too good for that My palm too good for that Wood tip wine black Talk shit get smacked Your face deserves hand backs My palm too good for that My palm too good for that Homie ever call my phone again Imma fucking smack Right on yo ex bitch, she just eh I'll make do's with that Homie ever threaten me again We'll do more than rap Homie ever threaten me again We gon' light the match Let's run it down, one second You can't run at all, you breathless Think you got the bars to make it But you like that water, tasteless Think you talk of town, you brainless Think yo peers are proud, we shaming Bitch yo music fowl, we breaking down Your whole shit sound, it's tainted I wanna see yo bad side, bitch You acting like you be Marcus Fenix You finna clock like carmine Leave you dead just like yo, um, brother's fetus Oh my god Is that bad, did it hurt Acting like you the shit But I stunk on em first Now he all bent With the eyes of regret Slept on me now But now I am his threat You ever come at me Imma punch your heart 'bout 5 times RKO you through knives Hit you with the piledrive You remotely salty Imma sock you like I'm Mankind Throw you like I'm Tensai You ain't got no bad side Wood tip wine black Talk shit get smacked Your face deserves hand backs My palm too good for that My palm too good for that Wood tip wine black Talk shit get smacked Your face deserves hand backs My palm too good for that My palm too good for that
Writer(s): Waylen Fairclough Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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