Music Video

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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
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bbno$
Vocals
Rebecca Black
Rebecca Black
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Rebecca Black
Rebecca Black
Songwriter
Alex Gumuchian
Alex Gumuchian
Songwriter
Christian Dold
Christian Dold
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Diamond Pistols
Diamond Pistols
Producer
Joe LaPorta
Joe LaPorta
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

And I just woke up 4:00 a.m. and this girl's already texting me What the fuck, bruh? Here we go Do a little yoga, do a little dance Baby, come over, leave yo' mans Straight to the sofa, bad romance Baby, can't wife her, ain't no chance (uh-huh) (Ain't no chance) yeah, there ain't no chance (uh-huh) Got about a hundred bands in fresh pants (uh-huh) Always eat leftovers, not to fance (uh-huh) Labels tryna buy me, psh, no chance Uh, why the hell I buy her shit? I don't know, uh Let her spend the money, get my expense up She wanna be a Barbie girl, I'm a Ken, duh Fly to the future, we can go on a bender Up all night, getting lucky, yeah, you betcha Etch up two Hondas and a Tesla, extra Up on a Friday, that's the agenda Bitch, we getting down like Rebecca Fuck Spirit, I ride G FO Dumb lyrics, I'm dumb rich, though You a critic? I'm Fantano Shit a couple hits out, bitch, no Pepto Only got one ball, but my arm strong Take a flight, yeah, quick down to Hong Kong Made that money wide, now that shit long I'm always right, ain't no chance I'm wrong Do a little yoga, do a little dance Baby, come over, leave yo' mans Straight to the sofa, bad romance Baby, can't wife her, ain't no chance (uh-huh) (Ain't no chance) yeah, there ain't no chance (uh-huh) Got about a hundred bands in fresh pants (oh, oh-oh-oh, uh-huh) Always eat leftovers, not to fance (uh-huh) Labels tryna buy me, psh, no chance (oh, oh, oh, oh) Come on over, baby, and I'll show you how I get down It'll be your little secret you don't have talk about So close the door, yeah, meet me down on the floor She got me screaming, uh, Britney, give me more Never thought we'd end up like this From the backseat to the back of my crib If you're nervous put your hand on my hips Yeah, that's nice, I-, oh Only got one ball, but my arm strong Take a flight, yeah, quick down to Hong Kong Made that money wide, now that shit long I'm always right, ain't no chance I'm wrong (oh) Do a little yoga, do a little dance Baby, come over, leave yo' mans Straight to the sofa, bad romance Baby, can't wife her, ain't no chance (uh-huh) (Ain't no chance) yeah, there ain't no chance (uh-huh) Got about a hundred bands in fresh pants (uh-huh) Always eat leftovers, not to fance (uh-huh) Labels tryna buy me, psh, no chance Yeah, there ain't no chance (ain't no chance) Yeah, there ain't no chance (ain't no chance) Yeah, there ain't no chance (ain't no chance) Ain't no chance, yeah, there ain't no chance Yeah, there ain't no chance, bitch Yeah, there ain't no chance (uh-huh) Yeah, there ain't no chance (uh-huh) Ain't no chance, yeah, there ain't no chance, bitch Yeah, there ain't no chance There ain't no chance you ain't gon' listen to this shit, bitch Skrrt, it's on the radio and I'm still swearing, the fuck, haha
Writer(s): Rebecca Black, Christan Dold, Alexander Gumuchian Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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