Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
J.K. Mac
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Deez Music
Songwriter
Jonathan McClarin
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Brennan Hooper
Producer
Lyrics
**** quick to talk bout action
But they ain't film the reel
How you wasnt on that time last year
But now you claim you kill
**** they wasn't shit
All of a sudden they be in that field
Me my **** we the type to jack a **** shoot at jill
Every track I hop on on the real
Feel like the holy grail
Put cheese on yo head and we send shells
Not talking taco bell
I invested in my fucking self I could never fail
He salty bout the green that I been getting tryna check my kale
Save yo money in that stu rap yo reality
We do not send diss boy
We just causing casualties
I know that these hating **** mad at me
But if he want smoke then its a tragedy
If he want that smoke forreal I'm a just stay cool
Cuz' the barrel on that rifle will when I gotta shoot
All american **** dirty up in a coop
You know I bring major payne when I'm with my troops
You know every stick go bang just like a frontal swoop
Front on who
Shawty broke my heart so now I'm on the move huh
I just gave 10k too my shoota
Me and jahseh rolling all the boof up
Crackers got his killas we ain't get to shoot them
Hold me down
Are you deaf of hearing now
Are you fucking with the vision
If you are then stick around
Are you down
I been juggin I can barely bust a smile
Brodie sit in front of judges told em no
Like Simon Cowell
Lost then travel
Love for all my Jenners I aint Ky-lie
Posted with sum drillers you can't try-me
Straight out of west **** from the southeast
I ain't in no ornamix
So just run the pounds please
Don't know how you feel
Jacking tookie jill
Broke it out
Bring the deals
Shoot it down
Hold the steel
Shit I be on have me higher than nasa
He be moving bricks slow
That boy ain't no real trapper
Should have stayed in school bro
I'll help you with ya FAFSA
I was in them college dorms with mo' sticks then a Kappa
**** quick to talk bout action
But they ain't film the reel
How you wasnt on that time last year
But now you claim you kill
**** they wasn't shit
All of a sudden they be in that field
Me my **** we the type to jack a **** shoot at jill
Every track I hop on on the real
Feel like the holy grail
Put cheese on yo head and we send shells
Not talking taco bell
I invested in my fucking self I could never fail
He salty bout the green that I been getting tryna check my kale
Written by: Deez Music, Jonathan McClarin
