Music Video

r - Cali
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
A$AP Rocky
A$AP Rocky
Vocals
A$ton Matthews
A$ton Matthews
Vocals
Joey Fatts
Joey Fatts
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Joey Vercher
Joey Vercher
Songwriter
Aston Matthews
Aston Matthews
Songwriter
Rakim Mayers
Rakim Mayers
Songwriter
Kevin Roosevelt Moore II
Kevin Roosevelt Moore II
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
K. Roosevelt
K. Roosevelt
Producer

Lyrics

Oh, yeah Oh, yeah Oh, yeah Oh, wooh! Niggas pistol-poppin' like it's 1999 I was nine, maybe ten, then again, never mind Press rewind, back in time Before rappers droppin' dimes Trap or die, choppin' pies With clichés all in they rhymes Now it's Gucci, Prada and anything designer Money, power, the whole enchilada Commas, dollas, the greens and the guava (oh) They serve you to your flocka If you disrespect that blocka, blocka Choppas on eavesdroppers Fuck these choppas, I'm about it Grindin' like 2Pac or Biggie Poppa Yeah, you outer, but I'm hotter Car jackin', pistol-packin' Mothafuckin' choppers clappin' Metal jacket, automatic magazines, head-on traffic Fenders smashin', windows crashin' Pants saggin', fuck your fashion Yeah, a nigga run Manhattan Back in Cali's where it happen They fit Gucci, Escada and anything designer Groupies, poppers, they all gonna swallow It was probably the robbers The goons and the goblins (oh) They hatin' a lot, medulla oblongata From New York to San Andreas And all around the world Going back to Cali Going back to Cali New York to San Andreas I'm screaming, "Fuck the world!" I'm going back to Cali Going back to Cali (Uh) Nigga, what's brackin'? I'm really out here boolin' on the West Side, you know what I'm sayin'? West, you know what I mean? Yeah, just seen a Camino, know what I mean? Just bein' careful out here Lookin' out for the enemies Cuz, you already know how we get down, cuz Fuck killin' these, cuz, I'm on the set, cuz We killin' everything, anything movin' Shit, I'm shootin' at niggas on the sight, cuz You already know, yeah I've caught you slippin', y'all can be back, nigga He ain't copped that, fuck that, Blood Niggas slippin' on the cuz, cuz I had to make that happen with this solo Maserati, like Atari With no car keys, push to start it New Bugatti, two Bugattis Tesla Roadster, blue Ferrari Lamborghini, system bumpin' Me no worried; Rastafari This the hardest, supersonic Systematic, too retarded New Versace, new apartment Bigger closet, newer carpet Hit departments, cooler garments Set my goal up, new accomplish Shootin' targets, you the target Movin' targets, new accomplice Killed the game and still regardless Beat the charges, do the honors
Writer(s): Rakim Mayers, Joey Vercher, . Aston Matthews, Kevin Roosevelt Ii Moore Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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