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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Nicholas Craven
Nicholas Craven
Music Director
Boldy James
Boldy James
Lead Vocals
Roberto Viglione
Roberto Viglione
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Nicholas Craven
Nicholas Craven
Songwriter
Boldy James
Boldy James
Lyrics
James Clay Jones III
James Clay Jones III
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Nicholas Craven
Nicholas Craven
Producer
Roberto Viglione
Roberto Viglione
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Ch-ch-ch-ch-chyeah let me go Mafia, what else? (Let me go) Two, 27 (let me give my deepest thought you) Fed bound, dancing with the devil in a red gown Even if they arrest (let me go) I bet that they won't catch with my pants down Rather go hand to hand, handing them samps out (let me go) Before I'm ever begging for a hand out Hand out the window serving clucks Nigga never took the scam route (let me go) Play with blocks, I bring them sconey scams out They might got a little fame now But I remember they was fanned out (let me give my all to you) Game timing shit but this ain't fan duel Quick to give a nigga angel wings Like he was sipping on a Red Bull 40 strip a nigga of his manhood Never suck or stroking on no hoe No, they can't live without him (let me go) They can say the most But that's one thing that they can't say about him Made a lot of money off the street but most importantly Don't play about my skrilla (let me go) Know them killers, they don't play about me Better go and catch up with your crowd before you catch a hollow (let me go) 'Cause I'm too busy catching powder But my shooter trying to catch a body He got 'em two for one, framework for half off Mag light on the stick but he always got the flash off (woo-ooh) Blinking out broad day, he took his mask off Type to take the last shot, he ain't the type to pass off Caught a hot one, at the 'spital, took his cast off Money on your head, he quick to rip the tag off Felt so much pain without picking the scabs off When they took him up top Made me wonder what was his last thoughts Nephie just hit a lick, he dumped them on me half off Don't give no fuck about no bitch, I get them quacks off This Big Mac'll turn your brains into Mac Sauce, nigga (jack guy) Why your baby be icing shit, they call him Jack Frost? (Let me give my inner soul to you) Still ain't no lacking in the trap, I never slacked off A nigga keep that back-up-off, niggas better back off Walk with a limp because my nuts heavy (let me go) I'm Dizzy Gillespie in Giuseppe with a bust prezi Dope changing colors from too much resin (let me go) My niggas accept me and whatever else that come with it 2000 OJ in Florida, might let the sun kiss (let me give my inner soul to you) My son miss me so much but he know I be drug dealing Mud spilling out the pint, thought I was done tipping Even if I let her spend the night, it ain't no tongue kissing Wouldn't wanna be 'em when I see 'em Same treatment go for who run with him (let me go) Better hope that nigga brought his gun with him It's more deadly than the tail of a scorpion (let me go) These bullets poison, if it's a stain, you getting stung with him A shootout every other night, you don't know the feeling (let me give my inner soul to you) I nicknamed my stepper Black & Decker cause all he know is drilling He got 'em two-for-one, framework for half off Mag light on the stick but he always got the flash off Blinking out broad day, he took his mask off (let me give my inner soul to you) Type to take the last shot, he ain't the type to pass off Caught a hot one, at the 'spital, took his cast off Money on your head, he quick to rip the tag off (let me give my inner soul to you) Felt so much pain without picking the scabs off When they took him up top (let me give my inner soul to you) Made me wonder what was his last thought Took him upstairs Baby, open up my eyes Seen it all, been through it all, yo
Writer(s): James Clay Jones Iii, Nicholas Craven Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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