Music Video

“41” TaTa x Kyle Richh - Damn (Official Music Video) {Shot By @StarExclusiveMedia}
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Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
TaTa
TaTa
Vocals
Kyle Richh
Kyle Richh
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kion Monsanto
Kion Monsanto
Composer
Kyle Henry Richardson
Kyle Henry Richardson
Lyrics
Zaire Tasean Rivera
Zaire Tasean Rivera
Lyrics
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Fckbwoy
Fckbwoy
Producer
Angel Moreno
Angel Moreno
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

(Damn Lil' FckBwoy! Man, you know that I be killin' shit) Grrah, grrah, grrah, like Grrah-grrah, boom All this Prada, they tell me they proud of me(Like, what?) Gettin' money like I won the lottery (On bro) Shorty a baddie, she doin' it sloppily (Damn) I'm tryna go up, but they foulin' me (Like, what?) And they know how I rock, no milly (Bitch) Bad bitch put the knock at her titty (Damn) Niggas be talkin' on me, I don't care If I'm runnin' at niggas (Grrah) I'm givin them fifty (Grrah-grrah, boom) She a baddie, I'm callin' her baby (Damn) We can rump, you cannot be my lady I gotta watch these niggas, they move shady I swear I'm totin Jackie (Rrah-rrah), and bro totin' Katid (Rrah-rrah) Got a bad lil' bitch, her name Katie (Like, what?) She wit' her friend and they both totin' Stacy She like, "Tata get up, you so lazy" Dummy got boomed, tryna chase me, grrah Hunnid bands can't change me (Grrah) Too real, see through the envy (Grrah-grrah-grrah) She a virgin, hittin' it gently She want the Louis Vuitton or the Fendi (Grrah-grrah-grrah) Big gun, hit him right through the temple (Like, damn) Gumbo, smokin' them dead dudes Stood on your strip, put a hole in a rental (Grrah) Heartless, give a fuck what her friend do (What her friend do) Damn, bands can't fit (Like, damn) Fuck the skinny jeans, I got a slim (Grrah-grrah-grrah) Of the deuce', she do what you think (Think) Like, she a baddie, she look good in pink (Grrah-grrah, boom) She a demon, she totin' a weapon Trace ran through and I'm lettin' off seven (Like, damn) .19 gonna send 'em to Heaven (Glah) Now you a thot, why you fuckin' ya' best friend? (Glah-glah-glah) I'm wit' bro, told her slide wit' her bestie (Slide wit' the what?) In a telly, 'bout to make a movie (On bro) And if I'm a option, don't choose me (Don't choose me, bitch) I gotta watch these bitches, they be groupies (On bro) She say I'm a dog, Scooby (Treesha) She rock Fendi, Prada, Louis (Damn-damn) Amiri denim, never wearin' Truey And that bitch a thot, on bro, she can't fool me (Fool me, damn) Off that Foomy, got me laced (Dotty) Movin' funny, get shot in ya' face (Damn-damn) Shoot at his feet, make him pick up the pace Everything deady, nobody not safe (Grrah-grrah) Gumbo, smoke 'em to the face (Damn-damn) She told me she love me, I told her she laced (On bro) Back up bitch, gimme my space (Grrah-grrah) Opps at the function (Grrah-grrah), we shoot up the place (Grrah) Finish him, leave no trace (No what?) Bitch I be buggin', don't know how to chill (Know how to chill) I be lost, I don't know how to feel (Know how to feel) You not my bitch, I'm just keepin' it real (Keepin' it real) Lil' thottiy she jackin' the 4 (Like, damn) She off the patty, she tryna perform (Grrah-grrah-grrah) She a baddie, she bounce on the floor Like, opp thot, send 'em out to the door (Opp thot) Come here, I wanna talk Look in my eyes, see the pain in my soul (Like, damn) Hate done grown so old (Grrah) I cannot die, this world so cold (Grrah-grrah-grrah) I don't know what she do for me If she postin' for me, you not gon' shoot for me (Huh?) Why is you wastin' my time? (Grrah) Real G's move in silence like a sign, damn (Grrah-grrah, baow) Why are you wastin' my time? (Like, what? Like, damn) Bitch, you a thot, stop callin' my line (Grrah-grrah), damn Bro throw shots at his mind I got a baddie, you might just get lined Damn, dissin' the gang, get slimed Gun jam up, he get beat with the .9 Tata my brother, I love him to death She a thot, let me nut on her chest (Grrah-grrah) Pop a .30, take me through the stress This not a game, but I play it like chess, damn She a thot, she gon' blow like a ref' Got your baddie, she givin' me neck Movin' funny, get hit in your neck Call up Preme, you get shot in your chest You love me, I love you Off a yerk, I don't know what to do Grrah, grrah, like bro said I do not regret all the shots that I threw, damn Everybody shot, everything dead, bitch Grrah, 41 4-1 shots to the head Grrah, like damn, grrah-grrah-grrah KR EK got seven vids wit' the same fuckin' coat What the fuck? Oh shit, he just dropped some new shit, make it eight
Writer(s): Henry Fasheun, Kion Monsanto, Zaire Rivera Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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