Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Lil Yachty
Lil Yachty
Vocals
Earl on the Beat
Earl on the Beat
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Miles Parks McCollum
Miles Parks McCollum
Songwriter
Isaac Earl Bynum
Isaac Earl Bynum
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Earl on the Beat
Earl on the Beat
Producer
Thomas “Tillie” Mann
Mixing Engineer
Gentuar Memishi
Gentuar Memishi
Recording Engineer
Colin Leonard
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

Sippin' the peach soda The niggas inside, they gon' hide 'til the heat is over (Frr) Sippin' the peach soda The niggas inside, they gon' hide 'til the heat is over (Frr) Sippin' the peach soda The niggas inside, they gon' hide 'til the heat is over I'ma ride 'til the beat is over Two Chanel bags, same price as my mink sofa And I move like the King Cobra Slimin' them out, dawg, I didn't have to think it over (Earl on the beat) (Frr) Sippin' the peach soda The niggas inside, they gon' hide 'til the heat is over (Uh) I'ma ride 'til the beat is over (Uh) Two Chanel bags, same price as my mink sofa (Go) And I move like the King Cobra (Go) Slimin' them out, dawg, I didn't have to think it over (Slatt) This lil' bitch, I'ma bend her over After I'm done, called the gang, I'ma send her over (Gang) I'm in tune with the UPS (Yeah) Waitin' on packages, KP gon' do the rest Got some bitches in Budapest Strapped with them K's, they walk 'round wearin' bullet vests (Ooh, frr) I need you to do more, but speak less Youngins gon' open, uh Youngins gon' open 'em up like some Mucinex (Go) Give me top, baby, keep the sex (Go) My dick get bigger when I see a money check Used to didn't have 100 bands (Beep) Now I'm outside with the gang doin' the money dance I'm a rush hour road runner (Mm) I'm a rush hour road runner, like Jackie Chan My big brother was beatin' pans (Beat it) Lil' brother psyched out, he might go shoot your mans (Buh, buh, beep) Sunday through Sunday (Sunday) I got them bitches comin' on the runway (On the runway) Fuck with the feng shui (Fuck with) Break a bitch back like the wood with a sensei (Krr) Fold it up Nisei (Fold it) You wasn't 'round at the gym back at Lin Lay Beep Split Yeah Uh-huh (Too much slime, Earl, hold it on) Yeah (Hold that shit down, nigga) Uh-huh (I'ma see it, you gon' see it and now he see it) Really had a doubt Uh-huh (Feel me) Uh-huh (For real), uh-huh, uh-huh Beep, look (Go) I'm hated the most, I don't give a damn (Go) I used to swipe for nothin' through Skype Through the night, I would eat on the Grand Slam (Swipe) Don't be like me, I'm a meanie Still ridin' dirty 'round town like a millionaire (Don't be like me) These niggas softer than Build-A-Bear Penthouse, then make her eat with no silverware (Shit, ayy, fuck) I'm crackin' this bitch like some software (Go) I got her boyfriend on my crosshair He talkin' down (Phew), go the sound I'm in New York, need a loft here (Damn) Bitch, I'm a motherfuckin' boss here (Damn) No, ain't no nigga soft here (Fuck 'em) My niggas down, they came from the town (Phew) They let it off here (Slatt) Audemars Piguet, ice me (Ice) Where I be fuckin' this Pisces? She wanna beat up a wifey (She was down) I like the Piguets, I like the emeralds Damn, them shits look like a icy (Ice) If I'm school, check out the IQ I made more guap than an IT (Yeah) Shit, nah, whole time niggas hold shit down (Frrt, frrt, hold it down) Yeah, whole time niggas never lie Niggas keep a 100 rounds (Whole time, frrt) Yeah, home alone, nigga, run up on me Do them like Macaulay Caulkin (Shit, shit, shit, yeah) 250 for the Bentley coupe, I ain't drivin', leave it, park it (Fif', yeah) Lot of my choices, dumb shit Can't pull up on the block on that dumb shit My niggas got red on their head Red on their head on some Trump shit (Brrt) I'm swervin' the Bourbon down Highland (Skrt) Swervin' the whip on some drunk shit (Swerve) I'm not a fighter at all But I stomp his head, wanted him dead (Prrt, prrt, prrt) Won't get offended, my conscience (Poh) These bitches hang 'round for the content (Bitch) It took me way out of context (Oh) And youngin' go blow like a suntext (Shit, beep) Live everywhere like some Germex (Hee) Just tell my nigga, "His turn next" (God) Burn that shit down (Ploom) Bitch, I'm a burnup (Burn) Yeah (Burn), y'all gotta earn that (Brrt) Don't speak on no shit you don't know about Before you speak on it, go learn that Shit, shit, yeah (Shit) For real, keepin' this shit for real (Beep) Three own them, two I should kill (Yeah) I don't even know how to feel, yeah (Beep) Nah, whole time, niggas hold shit down (Frrt, frrt, hold it down) Yeah, whole time, niggas never lie Niggas keep a 100 rounds (Whole time, frrt) Yeah, home alone, nigga, run up on me Do them like Macaulay Caulkin (Shit, shit, shit, yeah) 250 for the Bentley coupe, I ain't drivin', leave it, park it (Fif', yeah) Frr, frr (Go) Frr, frr Frr, frr
Writer(s): Miles Parks Mccollum, Isaac Earl Bynum Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out