album cover
John Tucker
17
Hip-Hop
John Tucker was released on January 6, 2023 by Fast Money Records as a part of the album Illie Too Cold
album cover
Release DateJanuary 6, 2023
LabelFast Money Records
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM125

Music Video

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
BG Illie
BG Illie
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Broderick Burnett
Broderick Burnett
Songwriter

Lyrics

[Intro]
(Ayy, get that bag, Toretto)
[Instrumental]
I got these bitches on me like I'm John
I'm kicking shit and my pockets on pun
No Derrick Rose when I ball on these ****
Ain't no number four, I'm forever the one
Feeling like Q-Dog, they know I'm a don
We see the opps, Usain Bolt, they gon' run
We don't need a tray 'cause my **** gon' eat
We prepare for this life, we already ate lunch
I might just, um, you saying too much
Call my hitter Roy Jones, he come in the clutch
You can keep your pack, pussy, 'fore I get you touched
(Don't make a sound 'cause they listening to us)
Been gone for a while, I'll drop the whole month
I'm in LA kicking shit with the ballers
Arkansas ****, feel like Malik Monk
He smoking that shit, I can tell by the funk
[Verse 1]
The only thing I don't like 'bout the rap game
These **** be acting like they don't know Illie
They be throwing rumors out like I ain't fucking they favorite pop star
But I ain't talking 'bout Billie
Like, bitch, is you silly? I'm curious
I drive this bitch fast and I'm furious
You seen that rap list, are you hearing this?
They say you ain't make it, delirious
Is it because I don't even fuck with these ****?
I ain't friendly with ****? Nah, yeah
Y'all call any **** with money real
And bumping to unless they fall, yeah
And I keep that shit player
And I might sell some white, call it Leia
And I think I'm the last **** rare
Let's keep it one hundred, you can't fuck with me, period
I'm not buying no more chains unless I spend thirty
That's a plus 'cause I'm tryna spend Curry
And my mama just text me, she worried
Not 'bout me, she talking 'bout you lil' birdies
I might give him nine shots like he Curtis
Here's a message, this shit getting urgent
He say he caught bodies, we know he a virgin
We know that he capping, he lie, he tell stories
[Chorus]
I got these bitches on me like I'm John
I'm kicking shit and my pockets on pun
No Derrick Rose when I ball on these ****
Ain't no number four, I'm forever the one
Feeling like Q-Dog, they know I'm a don
We see the opps, Usain Bolt, they gon' run
We don't need a tray 'cause my **** gon' eat
We prepare for this life, we already ate lunch
I might just, um, you saying too much
Call my hitter Roy Jones, he come in the clutch
You can keep your pack, pussy, 'fore I get you touched
(Don't make a sound 'cause they listening to us)
Been gone for a while, I'll drop the whole month
I'm in LA kicking shit with the ballers
Arkansas ****, feel like Malik Monk
He smoking that shit, I can tell by the funk
Written by: Broderick Burnett
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