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Young Thug - Floyd Mayweather Feat. Travis Scott, Gucci Mane and Gunna
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Young Thug
Young Thug
Vocals
Billboard Hitmakers
Billboard Hitmakers
Programming
Wheezy
Wheezy
Programming
Goose With Another One
Goose With Another One
Programming
TM88
TM88
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Devante Wilkes
Devante Wilkes
Songwriter
Eduardo Burgess
Eduardo Burgess
Songwriter
Jeffrey Williams
Jeffrey Williams
Songwriter
Jonathan de la Rosa
Jonathan de la Rosa
Songwriter
Radric Delantic Davis
Radric Delantic Davis
Songwriter
Sergio Kitchens
Sergio Kitchens
Songwriter
Bryan Simmons
Bryan Simmons
Songwriter
Wesley “Wheezy” Tyler Glass
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Jeffrey Williams
Jeffrey Williams
Executive Producer
Joe LaPorta
Joe LaPorta
Mastering Engineer
Alexander Tumay
Alexander Tumay
Mixing Engineer
Billboard Hitmakers
Billboard Hitmakers
Producer
Wheezy
Wheezy
Producer
Goose With Another One
Goose With Another One
Producer
TM88
TM88
Producer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Aye, aye
This real talk type shit, I swear to God
We just gon' call this shit "Drip," you know what I'm sayin'?
Aye
[Verse 2]
Aye, little bitch
You ridin' ****' dick like a bitch
Damn, little bitch (Yeah)
You ridin' ****' dick like a bitch
I got six brand new foreigns on my wrist, ah (On my wrist)
I got six Forgiatos on my fist, aye (On my fist)
I got fifty foreign hoes on my dick, aye, uh
I'ma nut in all them hoes, let's have some chicks, aye
**** tried to hit a lick and missed
Tried to run then I caught him like a fish, aye (Caught his ass)
I'ma catch his ass with the whole clip (Blat, blat)
I'ma beat they ass up like Ron Artest, aye
Pussy **** ran like a Miss
I got your bitch up underwater tryna kiss, aye
I'ma gon' and shit and take a piss, aye
We done fucked her legs and fucked her face, aye
[Verse 3]
Cash out on that whip, I don't want no rent
VVSs hit off that G Star V-neck
Chop, chop the top off that Stingray Corvette
Two bitches with me, they on molly, they on X
Took my foreign to the club, pulled in the VIP
Took some hoes to the hotel and made 'em strip
She sucked me loose, I had to give that bitch a tip
I had to give that bitch a tip
Everybody smashed that ho, that bitch the rip
[Verse 4]
I'm sellin' purple rain, R.I.P. to Prince (Prince)
When I was behind the fence, they treated me like a prince
So much jewelry on, her pussy gettin' tense (Brr, brr)
1017's the ones you don't wanna diss (Nope, nope)
And you can never be like 'Wop, you little snitch (You little snitch)
You make me mad, I have a threesome with your bitch (Ooh)
I'm from Custer East Atlanta, yeah, the 6 (Yeah, the 6)
I make one brick turn to two, I know a trick (Skrrt, skrrt)
The walking lick, my chopper is my walkin' stick (Grrah, grrah)
[Verse 5]
Everybody got they passport ready to dip, uh
Europe, UK, twenty-five thousand dollars on a trip
I just, I just found out rats can use they lips
I got, I got, I got me a thirty-round clip
I got one in the head, thirty-one rounds on my hip, aye
Okay, Lil Dora said I was born with the skill, aye
My lawyer say it's guaranteed when he appeal (He appeal)
I got a bad bitch wit' me, and yeah, she strip
[Verse 6]
Shake it, I tip (Yeah)
I sip, I dip (It's lit)
Rip, I drip (Yeah)
I killed, I
All I eat is lean, la la, and pills (Oh, my God)
Put that, put that in my girl (Straight up)
Makin' porno videos and takin' stills (Yeah)
Turn that, turn that to a film (Drip)
Yeah, anywhere we go (Yeah)
I bring the snow, I fill your nose (Straight up)
Ether, howdy my mamacita (Yeah, yeah)
Stay away Lucifer, she sexy in that all white beater (Yeah)
Dynamite no whine up (Yeah)
Have you fly from India, have you fly from China
I won't feel you honestly, strap up 49er
[Verse 7]
I'm in Vegas spendin' thousands on my chips
I can't love these bitches, fell in love the rip
I was, I was, I was doin' this shit just for my peers
I, I would put inside my blood, my sweat, and tears
Do this shit all on my own, don't need no deal
Di-diamonds flawless 'round my neck, gave me a chill
Late-lately, I've been flyin' on them Lears
Flyin' 'cross the world, these bitches killin' me
[Verse 8]
Aye, flood her bank account with bands 'cause she feelin' me
****, cash on delivery
If it's a snake on my clothes, then it's double G
I don't like police hoes, ain't no cuffin' me
All my diamonds dancin' like they Bruce Lee (Wah)
Check out my smile, I got some new teeth
Pop a molly, now I'm in the fuckin' air
Cloud nine, **** smokin' like the fuckin' bear
[Verse 9]
We at the Clearport, you **** never there
I wouldn't even cap, lil' bitch, this our year
I do it for my fam, twenty racks on gifts (Racks on Christmas)
Bitch, we blowin' gas, roll me up a spliff
Now, what you think a young **** grindin' for?
I sip it till I sleep, I might overdose
She made it out the hood and left that dope bowl
Get them bricks from my mama, she got truckloads (Huh?)
[Verse 10]
Fuck you mean you get it from your mammy, ho? Yeah (Ha-ha-ha)
Aye, diamonds all on my chin, diamonds on my folk
Piercin' in my nose, diamond in my nose
Giuseppe open toes, diamonds on my toes
I just got a family pack of Jimmy Choos, damn
I just bought a chopper and I'm ready to use it, damn
I got a lot of bitches comin' by the twos
I got a lot of bitches, bomin' by the few
[Verse 11]
Big di-diamonds but we call 'em jewels
All, all these racks, think I sell dog foods
Drip, I spend thousand on my fuckin' shoes
Pull up in this Ave, it cost the Christian Loubes (Yeah, yeah)
****, watch your mouth, we ain't fuckin' cool
YSL the mafia, that's a fuckin' fool
Take this shit out and shoot
Written by: Bryan Lamar Simmons, Devante Wilkes, Eduardo Burgess, Jacques Webster, Jeffrey Williams, Jonathan de la Rosa, Radric Delantic Davis, Sergio Kitchens, Wesley Glass

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