album cover
Dope
Hip-Hop/Rap
Dope was released on June 4, 2024 by The Nicest Ent as a part of the album Have A Nice Day
album cover
Release DateJune 4, 2024
LabelThe Nicest Ent
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM127

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Patrick Donte Hurst
Patrick Donte Hurst
Rap
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Patrick Donte Hurst
Patrick Donte Hurst
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Allyn Coleman
Allyn Coleman
Producer

Lyrics

Look, if you think you fuckin' with me, you must be smokin' dope
The trap, I call it Double Dutch, because it's jumpin' rope
Higher than a star smokin' telescope
You haters make me laugh, but I got better jokes
I used to sell Reggie, but I got better smoke
They say the street's cold, you need a leather coat
Free Craig, he bang red just like a can of coke
I am the nicest dead alive, no need for stethescope
Okay, my swag sick, medical attention
I could not fuck with y'all like semen retention
Remember runnin' off on the plug, I went the distance
Feelin' like Tom Cruise, a young **** on a mission
These **** dick ride so much, they got morning sickness
All this weight up at the spot, I'm gettin' into fitness
I fell in love with the hustle, I be in my feelings
You can pay me with silver and gold, I'm bout my shillings
I'm about lucrative profits, treat investments like shoppin
I like the wood and pass it to my **** like Stockton
I'm fuckin' the world, I gotta wear a glove like I'm boxin
I used to stash the grams up in my sock just like a stockin
I'm tired of people tryin' to block my shine just like Ibaka
I gotta move around the block its hot as like Sriracha
I pull up like the president, you just might see Ivanka
I'm sellin' chocolate shroom bars, I'm talkin' Willy Wonka
Psychedelics and big tools like Reddick
This bitch ain't got no class or nothin', she must ain't get her credits
You talkin' hard, they pull your card, I'm not talkin' a debit
Lil Uzi, that shoot 22, that bitch feel like some pellets
Healthy as can be, cause in my mouth, I got them carrots
Snakes up in the garden, but I ain't talkin' R.J. Barrett
She send explicit pics straight to my phone, I bet not share it
My chain it shine so bright, them people like he went to Jarrett
Oh, he went to Europe, then Miami, and New York and back
Then to L.A., but started off in the cul-de-sac
I went from eight zips to havin' 34, that's Kobe Shaq
****, I ain't gotta have a hat on, we just know he cap
Look, we just know you cappin
I started with a half an ounce of mid, couldn't even call a trappin'
All you motherfuckers sleepin' on me, go and get your nap in
The plug threw me 20 up front, I'll eat off the back end
Fuck it, I'll eat off the back end, fuck it
The Nicest, bitch
Look
Alan Coleman on the beat, motherfucker
Written by: Patrick Donte Hurst
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