Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Woodboy Gee
Vocals
Real Boston Richey
Vocals
Dank
Vocals
Karri DaFinesser
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Najee Cooper
Composer
Jalen Taheen Foster
Lyrics
Lyrics
Man, I told my **** Woodboy Gee he from the Southside now
You already know what the fuck goin' on, man, 38 Ridge Road shit, ****
Stop playin'
I don't pop no ecstasy
I'd rather pour up lean 'cause pills don't do enough for me
**** slidin', cross that chop, they can't get next to me
Necklace half a lamb chop, your **** ain't got the cheese
Your **** ain't got the cheese, lil' bitch, you gon' fuck or not? (Bitch)
I hit the airport, get a rental, park it at my spot (Skrrt)
No competition, but in my city, I got the biggest watch (The biggest)
I hit up Richey, hold your motion 'cause the city hot
Geezy say the city hot, this shit here for the feds
I trap on Tuesdays and Thursdays, these **** scared
Before my chain, Nucho gave me his and let me wear it
Wee just say he need a thick bitch look like Rocky Red
She look like Rocky Red, Bubba Kush, the price droppin' (Bubba)
I might can take you to the Ritz, but I can't take you shoppin' (Nah)
I'm at the office out the sunroof, a Miami Dolphin (For sure)
Lil' bitch keep throwin' me in my motion 'cause she steady talkin'
Lil' bitch keep tellin' me she got motion, she tryna act bossy
How many bitches havin' motion from lil' Gee and Boston?
I'm finesse y'all with a .38 baby, Mr. Public Housing
I don't give a fuck 'bout what they doin', just keep that money pilin'
Just keep that money pilin', **** told right at the station (Huh?)
I fuck with YIC, but we ain't takin' applications (YIC)
The plane land, we get the case and it's a celebration (That 'bow)
Fuck the police, the detectives, and the federation
And the federation, tell me why these **** hatin' (They hatin')
A fifty-ball in thirty days, boy, my trap ain't vacant (Fifty-ball)
Two SRTs back to back, me and Richey racin' (Vroom)
Gotta keep a Glock case these **** wanna take me (Bah-bah)
I don't pop no ecstasy
I'd rather pour up lean 'cause pills don't do enough for me
**** slidin', cross that chop, they can't get next to me
Necklace half a lamb chop, your **** ain't got the cheese
Your **** ain't got the cheese, lil' bitch, you gon' fuck or not?
I hit the airport, get a rental, park it at my spot
No competition, but in my city, I got the biggest watch
I hit up Richey, hold your motion 'cause the city hot
Written by: Najee Cooper
