Music Video

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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Vince Staples
Vince Staples
Vocals
Kenny Beats
Kenny Beats
Programming
monte booker
monte booker
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Vince Staples
Vince Staples
Songwriter
monte booker
monte booker
Songwriter
Doris Bright
Doris Bright
Songwriter
Kenneth Blume III
Kenneth Blume III
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Kenny Beats
Kenny Beats
Producer
monte booker
monte booker
Co-Producer
Manny Marroquin
Manny Marroquin
Mixing Engineer
Anthony J Vilchis
Anthony J Vilchis
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Chris Galland
Chris Galland
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Jeremie Inhaber
Jeremie Inhaber
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Zach Pereyra
Zach Pereyra
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Michelle Mancini
Michelle Mancini
Mastering Engineer
Spencer Dennis
Spencer Dennis
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

Yeah, uh, uh Trippin', yeah Trippin', trippin' Trippin', trippin', huh, yeah Trippin', yeah, yeah Listen (listen), I ain't goin' (nah), ridin' foreign Riches, off of tourin' (yeah), call ignorin' Missions, miss my brothers (yeah), die for colors Quiddich, catchin' snitches (snitch), do him vicious Livin', like Khadijah (I ain't even know that bitch, man) Quick to leave her Just because, like Anitta, she in love But it's leisure, real around the corner bleeder Bounce out on 'em on artesia, now we got amnesia Trippin', yeah Trippin', trippin' Trippin', trippin', huh, yeah Trippin', yeah, yeah Trippin', yeah, yeah Ayy, you trippin' (yeah) Trippin', yeah, yeah Trippin', trippin', yeah I ain't gon' lie (nah), always been the one to cuff (uh-huh) I ain't gon' lie (uh-huh), sometimes I hit it once And then I'm stuck (aw, yeah) I ain't gon' lie (nah), no, you not the only one (nah) I ain't gon' lie, she only want me 'cause I money touch I hate July (I hate it), crime is high, the summer suck (We run it up) Can't even hit the beach without my heat, it's in my trunks They ride the tide (yeah) I don't got no one to trust Trust and believe I see the shit that's up your sleeve Come fuck with me, we livin' fast as SRT's, yeah Don't come for me unless go fund me what you seek, yeah They lightin' candles on the curb, they not diptychs (yeah) My hood impatient, so be weary if it's beef, yeah Pull up, location is the belly of the beast, yeah (ayy, pull up) This shit get deadly, hope you're ready to decease, yeah It's just you and me (you know it) Pay me what you owe, this shit ain't free (nah) When you play rope with us, we supposed to go straight home from school I just couldn't refuse I knew I was doing the wrong thing But I guess it was more important to be accepted By the guys than anything else Trippin', yeah Trippin', trippin' Trippin', trippin', huh, yeah Trippin', yeah, yeah Trippin', yeah, yeah Trippin', yeah Ayy, you trippin' (yeah) Trippin', yeah, yeah Trippin', trippin', yeah I mean, the fellas in the gang weren't the greatest But I didn't wanna be left out
Writer(s): Vince Staples, Kenneth Charles Iii Blume, Monte Booker, Omnivore Refrains, Diddy Bop, Doris Bright Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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