Video Shoot - Chief Keef & ian: Song Lyrics, Music Videos & Concerts

Chief Keef & ian

Video Shoot

4,247

Hip-Hop/Rap

Video Shoot was released on March 27, 2026 by BMG Rights Management (US) LLC as a part of the album Skeletor

Popular Segments

Song Details

Most Popular

Past 7 Days

01:20 - 01:25

Video Shoot was discovered most frequently at around 1 minutes and 20 seconds into the song during the past week

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OVERVIEW

LYRICS

Music Video

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS

Chief Keef

Vocals

ian

Vocals

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

ian

Songwriter

Keith Cozart

Songwriter

PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING

Chief Keef

Co-Producer

Kenny Harmon

Mixing Engineer

Quadwoofer

Co-Producer

Lyrics

[Intro]

Hey

[Verse 1]

"ian, wake your ass up, always smokin' weed"

I was late to my last show 'cause I was smokin' weed

I just caught a flight and woke up, eatin' new cuisine

Spent time with a five and turned that bitch to a Hadid

[Chorus]

Plane back to Cali, I need gas at my doorstep

Boy run his mouth, I'm runnin' straight to his ho crib (Bitch)

I could give a goddamn who you roll with

I'm OT 'cause ain't no Winfrey, shout out Oprah

Had to leave you quick, this freaky bitch kept tryna film me

Always chattin' shit, boy, you worse than Wendy Williams

Tired of all these sorry hoes always tellin' sob story

Get up off my couch and get a motherfuckin' job, shorty

[Verse 2]

So much mud in my cup, bitch, I'd probably leave a stain

Should've bought some real estate, my dumb ass bought a chain

Ridin' with my killers, bitch, we make you feel some pain

So damn high, a **** startin' to talk like Johnny Dang

Baby Sosa always wanted the Cutlass with some wings

That's why I grew up and set that Lambo' on them things

Run up on the gang, we take your bitch ass to the range

Send you to the sky, you're just not goin' on a plane

****, I don't know you, I don't wanna shake your hand

Life give you lemons, make a lemonade stand

Money over bitches, ****, we only chasin' bands

Three things I won't take, shit, pussy, and a stand

Seen me in the hood, I probably sold your ass a kilo

And when I was broke, bitches still was jockin' steelo

On a Lamborghini yacht, ho, I ain't settlin' for a speedboat

Bought my cars cash, so them bitches can't get repo'd

[Chorus]

Plane back to Cali, I need gas at my doorstep

Boy run his mouth, I'm runnin' straight to his ho crib (Bitch)

I could give a goddamn who you roll with

I'm OT 'cause ain't no Winfrey, shout out Oprah

Had to leave you quick, this freaky bitch kept tryna film me

Always chattin' shit, boy, you worse than Wendy Williams

Tired of all these sorry hoes always tellin' sob story

Get up off my couch and get a motherfuckin' job, shorty

[Verse 3]

'16 Westbrook, you're cool, but your team suck

Ran up four million in a plain fuckin' T-shirt

I could take your ass to school, get to teachin'

No, I don't remember what you told me, I was geeked, bitch

Boy, you gettin' way too old for a finsta

Ho straight from 90210, she don't get nothin'

Throwed off, a different type of dope, I don't feel nothin'

I could probably pay for your whole 'bow with a 'fit pic

Treat the 'Rari like a motherfuckin' RipStik

She treat the molly like it's motherfuckin' candy

I could walk a mile in them sorry-ass sandals

It's paper on the ground, tell me, why the hell I stand up?

[Outro]

On God

Written by: Ian O'Neill Smith, Keith Cozart

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