Music Video
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
YG
Vocals
Terrace Martin
Keyboards
Smooth
Additional Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Leland Wayne
Songwriter
Keenon Jackson
Songwriter
Andre Romell Young
Songwriter
David Axelrod
Songwriter
Brian Bailey
Songwriter
Melvin Charles Bradford
Songwriter
Calvin Broadus
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Metro Boomin
Producer
Dee Brown
Recording Engineer
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Mixing Engineer
James Hunt
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
It was 1:00 in the mornin' and I was up yawnin'
Moms asked where I'm goin', to the hood if you ain't knowin'
Pops locked up so mama couldn't stop me
I was out the house A$AP Rocky
And it wasn't 'cause she couldn't control us
We was her babies, she just wanted to hold us
And we ain't get disciplined, her friend started whisperin'
About how she was a bad mama, mama said, "Fuck 'em then"
I was in the streets stylin', nobody could tell me nothin'
Grandpa or grandma, not my auntie or my favorite cousin
I was buzzin'
Fuckin' all these hoes wearing no condoms, no nothin'
I used to ditch school when the homie had the Chevy
I used to sneak and smoke stress weed
But now I'm rollin' on dubs
How you feel, whooptie woop, nigga, what?
Now I'm rollin' on dubs
How you feel, whooptie woop, nigga, what?
All these hoes showin' love
How you feel, whooptie woop, nigga, what?
All these hoes showin' love
How you feel, whooptie woop, nigga, what?
Skkrrttt, I was on a mission
On a mission to the money, sun down 'til it sunny
Know my family love me
Ridin' in the car with two niggas and a pistol, this ain't funny
I do it all for the money, hold up
Slowly as I pull up to the donut stand
I already know the plan, hop out and get on your mans
And take what he got
Go through pockets, wallets and socks, dig all the knots
This a stick-up
Phone ring, it's my mama in the middle of some drama
So I don't pick up thinking I gotta get my shit up
I gotta pick my bitch up
Let's hurry up and leave, I feel the police near us
So we left with a thousand dollars cash
It was me and my nigga, so you know I want half
The shit get real when niggas get greedy
Pop, pop, pop, pow, that's when he leave me
Put your fuckin' hands in the air
Don't fuckin' move
Fuck you man
Writer(s): Calvin Broadus, David Axelrod, Barry Ridgeway Bailey, Melvin Bradford, Keenon Jackson, Leland Wayne, Andre Romell Young
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com