Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Realbleeda
Realbleeda
Lead Vocals
BabyChiefDoit
BabyChiefDoit
Lead Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
David Catherine
David Catherine
Songwriter
Jayden Whittier-Jones
Jayden Whittier-Jones
Songwriter
Demorio Batiste
Demorio Batiste
Songwriter
Quorey Speights
Quorey Speights
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Demoe
Demoe
Producer
QRedOnTheTrack
QRedOnTheTrack
Producer
Tyler Chase
Tyler Chase
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Throw up a V wherever I'm at you could be a hat All this stunting in front them hoes gon get your pussy ass bat It take bread to go to war say you got racks and I ain't whack You can run but you can't hide bro got the front who got the back You know that it be murda when I slide and that's a fact I'm tryna turn you purple steady surfin like where you at You ever seen a n---a flat like a mat Leave his eyes missing It ain't no car bro thats a boat look how the tires missing Told that lil bitch I shot form the side You in the car with them li boys you gon get fried in it Since they 4 deep is gon be 4 homicides in it When my cousin died I was in that car Outside a house I slept and cried in it Then when they take his lick I pout that bitch on his back You know who killed your brother n---a stop all that acting Get in the field and get a kill cuz that business what I'm standing on And I put belt to ass I'm not the one to lay a hand on And thats just the way I step Plus I heard how you dissed me bitch I'm taking your breath I'm booted up to the ceiling bitch I'm way up there I went too deep in her belly and she couldn't stay up there And thats just the way I step Play like you crazy and get put on a shelf Pussy clean with a bag and she take care of herself Fuck what he said knock off his head ain't gon say nun else High as hell in this bitch why you got that gun and ain't gon shoot it I don't get the n---a put bread on his top they hit his medulla Put us on that same block Know they got the drop but I ain't gon use it I let her roll up my opps while my fingers stuffed in her coochie Monday to sunday X pill beating me I'm not shit thats why my hoe keep leaving me The hoe keep treating me she telling me she hate it here It ain't gotta be smoke but n---a we can take it there Stop muggin I would hate to crack a face in here Spinning every party hoping we can catch a face in here Try me I triple dare she cheated but I didn't care I got problems and I know it I'm self aware Know that I like saying bitch What the fuck you thinking bitch You just got from out the shower why the fuck you stanking bitch I think you a janky bitch A whole hanky panky bitch Why you asking if I'm sober what the fuck you thinking bitch And thats just the way I step Plus I heard how you dissed me bitch I'm taking your breath I'm booted up to the ceiling bitch I'm way up there I went too deep in her belly and she couldn't stay up there And thats just the way I step Play like you crazy and get put on a shelf Pussy clean with a bag and she take care of herself Fuck what he said knock off his head ain't gon say nun else High as hell in this bitch why you got that gun and ain't gon shoot it I don't get the n---a Put bread on his top they hit his medulla Put us on that same block Know they got the drop but I ain't gon use it I let her roll up my opps while my fingers stuffed in her coochie
Writer(s): Quorey Speights, David Renard Catherine, Jayden Whittier-jones, Demorio Dejean Batiste Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out