Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Bryson Tiller
Bryson Tiller
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Bryson Tiller
Bryson Tiller
Songwriter
Ernest Brown III
Ernest Brown III
Songwriter
Roger Troutman
Roger Troutman
Songwriter
Terry Troutman
Terry Troutman
Songwriter
Donald DeGrate
Donald DeGrate
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Charlie Heat
Charlie Heat
Producer
Michael "Black Mic" Williams
Michael "Black Mic" Williams
Engineer
Jaycen Joshua
Jaycen Joshua
Mixing Engineer
Mike Seaberg
Mike Seaberg
Mastering Engineer
Jacob Richards
Jacob Richards
Assistant Engineer
Chris Bhikoo
Chris Bhikoo
Assistant Engineer

Lyrics

Said I'm fiendin' for you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you (He's heatin' up) Yeah You know, they say it's always gon' be a badder bitch, for some reason, that don't apply to you I can't even lie to you, these bitches bad, but just not as fine as you They lookin' at me like, "How come I'm not outside with you?" They lookin' at me like, "Who gon' make this nigga fold?" Walkin' all in my line of sight, tryna find out who I'ma like Let me show it to you Let me hit her phone Baby, hoes in here doin' pick and rolls I know I said I was out with the bros, but I need you to go put different clothes on (come outside) I don't know the difference between Swiss and provolone But I know the difference between my bitch and these hoes She got a nigga cheesin' Not for any reason other than She borderline comedian Stay on her lane while these bitches drive on the median (damn) Like it's 2012, I'm swervin' this ho, and I mean it (swerve) I'm showin' no mercy to hoes and I mean it It's only you in this black Lamborghini I feel like Bruce Wayne but I need a Selina Done want a Batman, you happy to see it Just give me that cat, and I'm happy to eat it I'm mad at you teasin' me These bitches, they lack what I'm needin' Let's keep it a rack, they not half of what she is, I swear Won't be no mackin' for me And I swear, won't be no casualties And I swear, she a killer if he in the middle and move to the right Twist to the center, my truest delight I cannot be sleazy, provin' her right Nah, huh Better know I ain't come in here to go back and forth with no stare-downs, baby 'Cause- (said I'm fiendin' for you) And my roster's just, you like eight or nine Different hairstyles, baby (said I'm fiendin' for you) Well, if it's braided now Or hair down, maybe, or curly or straight You switch it up year-round Two-strand twist, it ain't fair, now, baby (said I'm fiendin' for you) Chill Hahaha, nah, for real, you gotta chill (you look good in everything you put on) Chill out, you got all these bitches mad in here (I'm fiendin' for you) But I only see you, so it don't really matter for real Believe that (for real, huh)
Writer(s): Bryson Tiller, Ernest Eugene Brown Iii Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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