Music Video

Upcoming Concerts for Birdman & Roddy Ricch

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Birdman
Birdman
Vocals
Roddy Ricch
Roddy Ricch
Vocals
Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne
Vocals
Awaz Beatz
Awaz Beatz
Programming
D Roc
D Roc
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Bryan Christopher Williams
Bryan Christopher Williams
Songwriter
Rodrick Moore
Rodrick Moore
Songwriter
Dwayne Michael Carter, Jr.
Dwayne Michael Carter, Jr.
Songwriter
Daniel Lebrun
Daniel Lebrun
Songwriter
Timur Saifullin
Timur Saifullin
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Awaz Beatz
Awaz Beatz
Co-Producer
Fareed “Rip” Salamah
Mixing Engineer
Hershey Blakk
Hershey Blakk
Mixing Engineer
Manny Galvez
Manny Galvez
Recording Engineer
17ondatrack
17ondatrack
Co-Producer
Colin Leonard
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer
D Roc
D Roc
Producer

Lyrics

D-Roc I bought a white Bentayga Had to creep through the night in the spaceship We was runnin' outside from the jake Now I put a lot of ice in the face, huh Keep a lot of shooters in the cut, cut And I got a ride with the tuck-up, huh Gave a hundred racks to my brother, huh Pop out the check, I'ma fuck up, huh Uh, and I got the whole hood on go Look at my neck, my wrist, my pinky, all froze Stunnaman, stunnaman, stunnaman Drip, drip, down to my toes Still pull up in the Rolls, Rolls Got a Ferrari when I drive through the hills All of my niggas outside, for real I'm 'bout to shit on niggas, diarrhea It's a lot of fake niggas, I'ma die real I'll be hanging outside with guerillas Lost my dawg, wanna die with my niggas Niggas rather be fly than realer And if the opps wanna slide, get hit up I'm in the gang for the dirty, dirty My right hand keep a .30 clip I done did some time with the murderers I ain't gotta shine on purpose, huh Plot 'em every time I put up (put up) Trap house lookin' like a cookout (cookout) He was creepin' up, get the red dot, headshot I bought a white Bentayga Had to creep through the night in the spaceship We was runnin' outside from the jake Now I put a lot of ice in the face, huh Keep a lot of shooters in the cut, cut And I got a ride with the tuck-up, huh Gave a hundred racks to my brother, huh Pop out the check, I'ma fuck up, huh Uh, and I got the whole hood on go Look at my neck, my wrist, my pinky, all froze Stunnaman, stunnaman, stunnaman Drip, drip, down to my toes Still pull up in the Rolls, Rolls (Stunna, yeah, Rich Gang) Cap a slingshot on 80 shit Cherry wood in all my whips Do it big, that label shit Created shit but stayed hood rich (stayed rich) That's how we lace this shit Get money, stay break a bitch At the top of the hill, another shootout With a hundred mil', we wave that shit (we wave that shit) Chanel bag, jewelries be hundreds or mo' (hundreds or mo') And I got my whole hood on go (hood on go) Bird call, I hate a lace, then got ghost (got ghost) Rich nigga, Roberto Cavalli, marble floors I bought a white Bentayga Had to creep through the night in the spaceship We was runnin' outside from the jake Now I put a lot of ice in the face, huh Keep a lot of shooters in the cut, cut And I got a ride with the tuck-up, huh Gave a hundred racks to my brother, huh Pop out the check, I'ma fuck up, huh Uh, and I got the whole hood on go Look at my neck, my wrist, my pinky, all froze Stunnaman, stunnaman, stunnaman Drip, drip, down to my toes Still pull up in the Rolls, Rolls Uh, stunnaman, stunnaman, bulletproof Cullinan Chrome Heart bust, now I weigh it underhand Spent a couple hunnid bands, that was just for the band Put a dirty hundred grand up in the laundry bag 'Bout to pop another Xan', 'bout to smoke a hundred grams I'ma be who I am, you are not what I am Lit like the light at the end of the tunnel, man But the light just might be a train comin', man I had to spend some money to win some money I had the rooftop down but still had the tits up on it Weed so good, I taste up on it Lit hoe tryna inch up on me while my bitch up on me Rose gold looking like ketchup on me I let that choppa ring, my holy matrimony All red like Patrick, homie Redbone, got her lashes on me I can't even sleep tight without a million cash inside the mattress, homie Told bae I'm in the booth, you gon' have to play with the pussy on FaceTime Just found out the President I voted for was already dead, slime (yeah) I bought a white Bentayga Had to creep through the night in the spaceship We was runnin' outside from the jake Now I put a lot of ice in the face, huh Keep a lot of shooters in the cut, cut And I got a ride with the tuck-up, huh Gave a hundred racks to my brother, huh Pop out the check, I'ma fuck up, huh Uh, and I got the whole hood on go Look at my neck, my wrist, my pinky, all froze Stunnaman, stunnaman, stunnaman Drip, drip, down to my toes Still pull up in the Rolls, Rolls
Writer(s): Bryan Williams, Dewayne Carter, Rodrick Moore, Daniel Lebrun, Sven Rafael Steenbergen, Timur Saifullin, Bornot Lebrun Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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