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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Lil Baby
Vocals
Quay Global
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Chris N'Quay Rosser
Songwriter
Dominique Jones
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Quay Global
Producer
Michael Dottin
Mixing Engineer
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
I ain't got no regrets, I can't complain, my life is great (I'm straight)
I just woke up today, made a hundred thousand dollar play
I sold a hundred bags before a hour hit
So many blue hundreds, they stickin' like they counterfeit, I print this shit
Whole lot of ones, I'm in the club, I'm goin dumb, dumb (Dumb, bumb)
I'm sippin' Act', and it's the real deal, do you want some?
Same ones tryna run with the clique be the same ones throwin' salt on the clique
Main reason why I'm fuckin' your bitch, ain't gon' say shit
I asked you about it, you lied (Lied)
You asked me about it, I kept it one hundred
I'm nothing like these other guys (Guys)
I really spent two thousand on kicks and only wear 'em one time, yeah
It's somethin' about a **** mind frame
Diamonds doing jumpin'-jacks in the AP, I can make the time change
Two hundred hoes in my call log and I ain't got not a name saved
Took her out the hood, put her on to drip, now, I got her rockin' name brand
Me and Ced had two different spots, we usually 'round the corner doin' the same thing
Everywhere I go, my chains hang, free the bros out the chain gang
New Maybach cost two-thirty
I don't even get my shoes dirty
I don't even sleep when I get tired
You could see the Adderall in my eyes
Tiger said he got the drop on an opp
But fuck it, let's slide and shoot up the block
**** knowin' how we come through
G5 out the sun roof
I ain't got no regrets, I can't complain, my life is great (I'm straight)
I just woke up today, made a hundred thousand dollar play
I sold a hundred bags before a hour hit
So many blue hundreds, they stickin' like they counterfeit, I print this shit
Whole lot of ones, I'm in the club, I'm goin dumb, dumb (Dumb, bumb)
I'm sippin' Act', and it's the real deal, do you want some?
Same ones tryna run with the clique be the same ones throwin' salt on the clique
Main reason why I'm fuckin' your bitch, ain't gon' say shit
We used to trap at my mom house, turn a condo to a hideout
We can't be fuckin' at my house, **** be runnin' they damn mouth
Walk down on 'em, broad daylight, it ain't no fun in no drive-by
I'm cool on the love and the high fives, you **** can't clique up with my guys
You can't get all this drip in a lifetime
I got out, ran it up in the right time
We got Draco whenever it's night time
We ain't never gon' stop at the stop sign
Went to Wafi, I told 'em, "I wanna shine"
Then the coupe quarter million, they wiped me down
I'm runnin' this town, everything I say, fake **** can't take back
New Lamborghini '18, only thing I do is make cream
I don't know why these **** hating, only thing I do is drink lean
Rest in peace to Fredo Santana, I just keep on buying all these Phantoms
I don't wanna go out like that
Only thing I know is get racks
I ain't got no regrets, I can't complain, my life is great (I'm straight)
I just woke up today, made a hundred thousand dollar play
I sold a hundred bags before a hour hit
So many blue hundreds, they stickin' like they counterfeit, I print this shit
Whole lot of ones, I'm in the club, I'm goin dumb, dumb (Dumb, bumb)
I'm sippin' Act', and it's the real deal, do you want some?
Same ones tryna run with the clique be the same ones throwin' salt on the clique
Main reason why I'm fuckin' your bitch, ain't gon' say shit
Written by: Chris Rosser, Lil Baby, Quay Global