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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
BIG30
BIG30
Rap
Pooh Shiesty
Pooh Shiesty
Rap
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tiquan Pryor
Tiquan Pryor
Songwriter
Rodney Wright
Rodney Wright
Songwriter
Lontrell Williams Jr
Lontrell Williams Jr
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Tp808s
Tp808s
Producer
Ari Morris
Ari Morris
Mixing Engineer
Logan Schmitz
Logan Schmitz
Assistant Mixing Engineer
T Head
T Head
Recording Engineer
Leo Goff
Leo Goff
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

Fuck (TP, baby) Blrrd Man, this shit here crazy, stupid bitches say we killed my nigga Say they caught him slippin', in south Memphis I was somewhere seekin' Know how we get down and how we kick it, facts, you know the business Had some up and downs and up some guns this shit got kind of wicked Now I'm out in traffic by myself, I don't know who to trust This Glock got my back, Draco with me, clutchin' on every truck I'ma keep on smashin', keep yo' name alive and post you up Bitches wanna fuck 'cause I'm above, my feelings in my nuts Swervin' through the city in this Scat, I got 'bout 50 on me Opps tryna sic bitches on me, carbon, it got 'bout 60 on it Ever since I lost Taydoe, been creepin' with the kitchen homie Cold heart Crippin', like I'm Gunna, bitch, I'm drippin' on 'em Trappin' out a vacant with no neighbor, tryna get it in .357 came with eight shots, I'm tryna let off ten The plug say he gon' stop sending the bows, we keep stretchin' his friend Well, little do he know, his ass next when soon as we meet again Jason hit my phone, like they just booked me for 'bout 20 racks Chop that shit in half and send off a ten, he send me 20 back The streets say we got ether, keep on droppin' this shit hit like crack And we the ones who started slimin' out with choppas in the Scat I know what it feel like, take this, make sure this pill right Three to the chest, one to the neck, I bet that boy don't heal right I keep popping all these pills 'cause I like what it feel like And don't think that I'm slippin', try your luck, you gon' get killed twice Uh-oh, here come Mr. Shiesty, I'm who they can't wait to see Active in them streets, when shit go down, they quick to say it's me Waitin' on my response, but all I got to say is keep a G Ain't so sense in speakin' on the dead, but may he rest in peace Can't change what they feel like, grab the Drac', I don't feel right Customizing Glocks like Call of Duty, what your kills like? Niggas havin' secret smoke, they don't want to bring to the light Ain't putting them people in the biz, but we chopped it the same night Can't compare us to them singing niggas, we the drill type Been put down that basketball to go see what the field like If I ever took from you before, I coulda did it twice Creepin' through the night, I'm not a thief, but I'll steal your life (blrrd, blrrd, blrrd) You heard that sound? That mean that came from us Fuck this rappin' shit, I'm quick as fuck to go get suited up It's only two niggas that played with us, but then they knew what's up Every time we found out where they be, we came through shootin' it up, on God (blrrd) And all you other niggas hoes Strapped with the shell catchers, .38 and snub nose I'm high speedin' from helicopters, police tried to block the road If I pull over today, you might not see me 'til I'm old (blrrd)
Writer(s): Tiquon Pryor, Lontrell Williams, Rodney Wright Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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