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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
A Boogie wit da Hoodie
A Boogie wit da Hoodie
Vocals
Slade Da Monsta
Slade Da Monsta
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Artist Julius Dubose
Artist Julius Dubose
Songwriter
Marcus Slade
Marcus Slade
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Slade Da Monsta
Slade Da Monsta
Producer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
****, don't tell me what you want
Think you callin' shots?
I make a call, **** get you gone
Knew that was your girl, but she a ho
And her pussy soak
Sound like macaroni in a bowl
When she mix it up
Knew I was goin' put it in a song
We ain't get to fuck
Think about it when you leave her home
Where she really at?
Probably got location on your phone
She know where you at
A lot of **** hatin' on the boy
Why you really mad?
Is it 'cause I'm really puttin' on?
Where my city at?
Highbridge **** from the Bronx
Where it be gritty at
I be smokin' on Gorilla Glue
And smokin' GG pack
They don't wanna free my ****
None but I know he be back
[Verse 2]
Bitches that I hit up in the DM
Never hit me back
Now they probably all up in my DM
I don't get to check
I could turn your girl into a demon
Boy, don't get me mad
Fuck around and threw out all my singles
When I heard it clap
Sound like macaroni in a bowl
How she gettin' wet
When I met her, she she was a fuckin' bartender, yeah
Then I saw her dancin' on a pole
She a stripper, yeah
Macaroni in a bowl
She be mixin', yeah
[Verse 3]
My **** don't tell me what to do
Mel went to school for shootin' hoops
And then he learned to shoot
Had to lock myself inside the booth
That's how I kept my cool
Saw my **** Quado on the news
That's why I kept my tool
Don't you try to tell me nothin', ****
You don't know me
Done with this bottle
Fill me up, I need another rose
Got to hit a couple hitters up
When I'm by my lonely
I think they already know wassup
I don't fuck with phonies
Lately I been runnin' out of time
I need another rollie
Lately I been on the west side
Don't need no other homies
Diamonds on my pinky finger blindin'
All the bitches on me
I look at her and tell her "Call me"
Hold up, matter fact
[Verse 4]
Bitches that I hit up in the DM
Never hit me back
Now they probably all up in my DM
I don't get to check
I could turn your girl into a demon
Boy, don't get me mad
Fuck around and threw out all my singles
When I heard it clap
Sound like macaroni in a bowl
How she gettin' wet
When I met her, she she was a fuckin' bartender, yeah
Then I saw her dancin' on a pole
She a stripper, yeah
Macaroni in a bowl
She be mixin', yeah
[Verse 5]
Macaroni in a bowl
The way she mix it up
The way she mix it in a bowl
The way she mix it up
Macaroni in a
Mix it up
Written by: Artist Julius Dubose, Marcus Slade
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