Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Yung Ro
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Rashad Dixon
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Hollobeats
Producer
Lyrics
If she ain't suckin' dick, she gotta go (She gotta go)
So what's up with that throat? (What's up with that throat?)
He tryna see what's up with Yung Ro, 'cause he know I'm tryna see what's up with his hoe (Uh-huh)
I ain't with all that new age beef, **** (Nah)
I pull up at your door
Stop actin' like we ain't spend before (Yeah)
Y'all must want us to spend some more
You **** be dodgin' me, y'all know I don't believe in squashin' beef (Uh-uh)
Fuck your apology, my partner did, that bothered me (That bothered me)
So we want revenge and if he keep houndin', we kill his friends
I got a bag on his head, y'all kill him, I'm givin' you ten (I'm givin' you ten)
No, we don't want justice (Nuh-uh)
We leave it up to the streets (Up to the streets)
Them young **** bustin' for me, they aimin' that shit like they're brushin' their teeth
I got bitches hustlin' for me (Yeah)
Pussy ain't shit, you'll be lucky if I speak (Uh)
I ain't with the internet beef, when the press turn up, I ain't makin' a tweet (Nah)
'Cause I don't got no fucks to give
We ain't aimin' for legs, we shoot to kill (For real)
'Cause, bitch, I do this for real (For real)
You stake your part and that's food for real (For real)
And, no, I don't pillow talk (Uh-uh)
You say my name, I'm pullin' this pistol out (Yeah)
You spin on this block, you gon' die, ****, we sendin' them missiles out (Yeah bitch)
The opps ain't know shit (Uh-uh)
We be takin' their sisters out (They tried)
Then put dick in their sister's mouth (Uh-uh)
Smilin' like I'm part of the family now (Yeah)
Try somethin', I know where the family's house (Cheese)
**** real life, ain't pullin' no cameras out
Every gun got a clip with a curve
You would think we're pullin' bananas out, yeah
Trap house goin' nuts, everybody in here runnin' it up (Yeah)
Gotta stay down if you wanna be up (For real)
Gotta catch you a body if you wanna be with us
Slide on the opps and they wanna be tough, let that bitch bust
Turn into dust, don't play with my bro, I turn this bitch up
Bad attitude and I don't give a fuck, yeah, yeah
Hit him in his shit if he don't give it up
I know they're watchin', I stay in the cut
My jewelry deserve, she don't like to fuss
When she get in her feelings I get in her guts, yeah, uh-huh (Come on)
When she get in her feelings I get in her guts (Come here)
I get the poundin', she get to moanin'
We fin' get nasty, it's up in the moment
I beat it up, she my opponent
My partner a rat, I don't condone it
Might sign to Interscope, might sign to Sony
Can look in my eye, tell that I want it
So tell all the labels. I say that I'm hungry
I'm crashin' them out, 'cause I know he a phony, yeah, yeah
I'm in the kitchen cause I want a Maybach
Don't worry about that flow and just hit it with Ajax
You know you don't like me, why you ain't just say that?
You know I'ma scrap, know I don't play that
Hit one of mine, bitch, I want payback
Jump out the Audi lookin' right arabs
You got a rock 'em, I'm talkin' A$AP, yeah
I jumped off the porch and got right in the mix
Used to post on the block every night with the glick
And I don't run her sales, 'cause I'm nice with the wrist
Yeah, I wish that bitch was longer
Written by: Rashad Dixon