Credits

COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Samuel Parker
Samuel Parker
Songwriter
Carl Hall
Carl Hall
Songwriter

Lyrics

They callin' me Triipout they know I'm a monster
Way that they jack it they know I'm a starter
Shapin' shit up of get cut like a barber
Only head shots the fuck is some armor
The action is packed
The reaction is slack
We killin' shit for it could start up
Movin' with brodie in case you ain't know him it's Mr. Plane Time with the charter
I'm CJtheCannon and told you before you can't fuck wit us
Been bangin' them E's since 16 **** was young and was fuckin' up
I would fuck on a E smokin some trees and I put lean in a double cup
And my shorty look mean and her eyes green **** I got my money up
Had to switch up the V 300 C's ain't got no tints so you know wassup
**** after I leave you wouldn't believe how much my DM's was blowin
I ain't fuck on no hoes I'm growin up
I was chasin' this paper they know wassup
Had to wake up and sip up a folger cup
**** watching these **** they foldin' up (Yeah, Yeah)
That's how you bumin ****
Get the bass right or I'm drumming' ****
When the storm passed brought it right back with the lightning and the thunder wit it
(Yeah, Yeah)
That's how we rockin' ****
Back then we was droppin' ****
Go to the hood or the tropics ****
That's what happens when you got the options wit it
Off the jump bruh had me fucked up go against us then it's tough luck
Low key in a black whip with the dark tints if you move dumb
I ain't even gotta say much quiet **** with the dumb shit
Got back with my day ones used to crawl around now we run shit
You know we run shit
Eatin this chicken and bread what we call it
Call it chicken and dumplings
Ironically 12 o'clock on the dot
when these **** they thought we was lunchin'
We eatin at brunches
**** drunk and they all wit the dumb shit
Bout to fuck up the function
(Yeah,Yeah)
Be in them brunches them **** is loafin
So on gang what we do
Bring all the toast in she off a mimosa she doin the most
All on the homie I guess she a hostess won't call her a hoe
Don't wanna argue the money is callin so I gotta go
All on the homie I guess she a hostess won't call her a hoe
Don't wanna argue the money is callin so I gotta go
Written by: Carl Hall, Samuel Parker
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