Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Drego
Performer
Drego Tf
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Wiley Jacoby
Songwriter
Lyrics
(Jose the Plug)
(I got exotic pack)
Fft, beep, boy
Man
They wanna know how I'm livin', they wanna know what I'm sippin'
My brother told me save it, these bitches tell me spend it
We got crack like the '80s, I let my baby whip it
He hit her with a one, so we call her Chauncey Billups
I came up from the pavement and now I make a killing
Bitch, I ain't the one to play with, I came up with some killers
When you servin' Michael Jackson, better post up with the thriller
When you make it off the road, I swear it's a different feeling (Man)
I swear I could never feel 'em
**** really fake as hell and be talkin' like the realest
**** gettin' played like bitches and be talkin' like they killers
I don't never judge a ****, I'm just thumbin' through the riches
I just talked to my big bro, it's snowin', he said we gettin' some inches
She just shot it up in front of me, told her tell me when she feel it
The way I'm all up in her mouth, she saved my number as the dentist
Don't ever get too bomfortable and serve a **** where you livin'
Put a Perc' up in my lean, look like a snowglobe when I'm sippin'
You ever got down on your knees and prayed to God to send a brick in?
It fucked my head up 'cause he did it, bruh just showed me a whole chicken
Forgot I'm Blood, I mean bhicken, never leave without the blicky
Bitch, I only like it 'cause it's sticky
Put my thumb in when I hit it, rub her clit, she love the feeling
Yeah, hit her with a Chauncey Billups, should've tried a Derek Fisher
This that shit that if you do it right, can cop a Richard Mille (Man)
They wanna know how I'm livin', they wanna know what I'm sippin'
My brother told me save it, these bitches tell me spend it
We got crack like the '80s, I let my baby whip it
He hit her with a one, so we call her Chauncey Billups
I came up from the pavement and now I make a killing
Bitch, I ain't the one to play with, I came up with some killers
When you servin' Michael Jackson, better post up with the thriller
When you make it off the road, I swear it's a different feeling (Man)
****, when you on the road, you better watch out for the piglets, uh
**** really told, they bold, you postin' them in pictures, uh
Man, the street shit need a ref 'cause **** ain't official
He can't ball with the big dogs, he keep tryna blow the whistle
He was talkin' like he gangster, now his mama need a tissue
If it's beef, then you gon' get your issue, I will never diss you
You ain't struggle how I struggled, dawg, so I can never feel you
She said she ain't really got it, I said, "Baby, I could build you"
The way my **** slidin' every day, so they don't watch the news
It feel like Jesus took the wheel, like Carrie Underwood, it's on cruise
If you gettin' it for the low and stompin' on it, you can't lose
It feel like every bitch and their friend wanna fuck, swear I can't choose
I'm a vet, dawg, with this drank, I pour it up and never snooze
**** get down on they mans and talkin' 'bout it like it's bool
I don't get it, **** fools, guess this loyalty shit is through
It's so many licks out here, but **** scared to break the rules (Man)
They wanna know how I'm livin', they wanna know what I'm sippin'
My brother told me save it, these bitches tell me spend it
We got crack like the '80s, I let my baby whip it
He hit her with a one, so we call her Chauncey Billups
I came up from the pavement and now I make a killing
Bitch, I ain't the one to play with, I came up with some killers
When you servin' Michael Jackson, better post up with the thriller
When you make it off the road, I swear it's a different feeling
Written by: Wiley Jacoby
