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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Playboi Carti
Vocals
Jazzy Jay
Sampled Artist
T La Rock
Sampled Artist
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jordan Carter
Songwriter
Timothy Jordan Jenks
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Pi’erre Bourne
Producer
Lyrics
[Intro]
In Atlanta with some organic, uh, hold up
Pussy mad, I smoke that organic, uh, hold up, yeah
Fendi'd down, I'm smokin' organic, uh, uh
And it's Die Lit, uh, uh
F&N, I'm smokin', uh, what? Uh, yeah
[Verse 1]
F&N, I smoke on organic, uh, yeah
She bend down, she need some more breath, uh, yeah, yeah
I got smoke all in the air, uh, yeah (I got smoke all in this ho)
Fuck this up and you get left (Fuck this up and you get left)
AP on my fuckin' left
Stack it up right on the shelf, uh (Stack it up like, stack it up)
Your bitch look familiar (Your bitch, your bitch)
I got drip all everywhere (Your bitch, yeah)
I got cash all everywhere (Hold up, your bitch)
I'ma do this by myself, uh, yeah (I'ma do this by)
On the jet by, by myself, uh, yeah
And I touch down and shoot the gas tank, uh, yeah (Hold up)
I touch down and get my fingers wet, uh, yeah, uh (I touch down and get my fingers wet)
My bitch got that G.O.A.T. head (My bitch got that G.O.A.T. head)
Riding 'round on moped, uh (Pop that bean and count them deads)
My bitch off the Percocet (My bitch off the Percocet)
Pop that bean and count them deads, uh (Pop that bean and count them deads)
Yeah, she suck me, I can't feel my legs, yeah (Pop that bean and count them deads)
My bitch yucky, she don't use no hands, hold up (My bitch yucky, she don't use no hands)
Dance floor with the diamonds dancin', uh, yeah, uh (Dance floor with the diamonds dancin')
Dance floor with the diamonds dancin', uh, yeah, yeah (Dance floor with the diamonds dancin')
That's why you cop by them bags, uh (Yeah, yeah)
In L.A. I smoke that gas, uh
In L.A. I link with slatt (And I)
That bitch with you, she gave you back, uh
I fucked that bitch, then gave her back
I nut on her, she make me 'lax (Yeah)
That gun on me, I cannot lack (That gun on me, yeah)
Your bitch right, she got it clapped
You can die 'bout yours, boy, you get clapped
I took that lil' boy right off of the map
We killed them boys right here, right in the trap
I love my lean, I fucked around, relapsed (Yeah)
I fucked that bitch, he runnin' 'round in laps
You touch down in my city, you better tap
That bitch 'round here, she know she gotta tap
I seen that bitch ridin' 'round in Nudy 'Cat, huh
That bitch with me and now she on that pack
I'm on Southside and I'm weighin' the crack (I'm on Southside and I'm weighin' the crack)
I'm on Southside, yeah, hand on the gat (Southside)
I'm on Southside every day with blatt, uh, uh
I'm on Southside, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
[Outro]
Too much lean, yeah, uh, too much ice, hold up, whoa
One more pint, hold up, uh, one more pint, uh, yeah
Too much lean, yeah, uh, too much ice, hold up, uh
One more pint, yeah, uh, one more pint, uh, yeah
One more pint, uh, yeah, one more pint, uh, yeah
One more pint, yeah, yeah, one more pint, yeah, yeah
Too much lean, uh, yeah, too much ice, hold up, yeah
One more pint, uh, yeah, one more pint
Written by: Jordan Carter, Onika Maraj, Timothy Jordan Jenks