Upcoming Concerts for Future
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Future
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Nayvadius Wilburn
Songwriter
Xavier Dotson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Zaytoven
Producer
Kori Anders
Mixing Engineer
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
(Zaytoven)
Cuddle my wrist, cu-cu-cuddle my wrist
Cuddle my bitch, cu-cu-cuddle my bitch
Cuddle my wrist, cuddle my wrist
Cuddle my, cu-
Cuddle my, cuddle
[Verse 2]
Cuddle my wrist, cuddle my bitch, cuddle my wrist
Cuddle my bitch, cuddle my wrist, cuddle my wrist
[Verse 3]
I got that monkey on my back
I walk around with 500 racks
I keep the city on my shoulders, carry it 'round like a bag of stacks
I put a kid on a Bentayga
Dr. Miami, the ass fat
**** wanna play with the murda squad
Fuck around, I had to call up Scratch
[Verse 4]
Goyard as soon as the bag got packed
Zone 6, sure, I ain't showing no slack
Never been a quitter, I'ma turn it to the max
Lean in my liver, I've been taking good batch
Real dope dudes don't hang around rats
Four by four, sitting taller than a 'Lac
Margiela on my toes, sittin' way in the back
Canary yellow gold, Rollie and a Mac
Glock 4-0, plastic gat
VV coated, sitting on my chest
Pussy ass **** don't call no threat
I'm a big dog, you ain't nothin' but a pet
Weak ass **** boutta run outta check
Tryna keep up, better step up your neck
Had to eat it up when I caught the baguettes
Snackin' on me, it ain't nothin' to address
[Verse 5]
Cuddle my wrist, cuddle my bitch, cuddle my wrist
Cuddle my bitch, cuddle my wrist, cuddle my wrist
[Verse 6]
Fifty-five mil' on my carats
I never had to go in the vault
Fishscale when you speak my status
Future already done picked up the phone
We on a regular line, ****
I can't talk to you nothin' 'bout the raw
I heard you seen a **** get flatline
You better not tell them none what you saw
Soon as I drop, I got flexed up
Fuck all that drama, got heat tucked
Ice out the hittas, my cuts up
Yellow gold Presi, it bust up
Young **** already pushed the Ferrari
I came in with the head off
Jumbo Patek gon' crush your career
All these wheels, got dust on the wheel
So many foreigns, a car dealership
Poured up my cup when I hopped on the Lear
Drippin' severe, the God is here
Dic's in here, I got chartered here
[Verse 7]
I got that monkey on my back
I walk around with 500 racks
I keep the city on my shoulders, carry it 'round like a bag of stacks
I put a kid on a Bentayga
Dr. Miami, the ass fat
**** wanna play with the murda squad
Fuck around, I had to call up Scratch
[Verse 8]
Cuddle my wrist, cuddle my bitch, cuddle my wrist
Cuddle my bitch, cuddle my wrist, cuddle my wrist
Written by: Nayvadius Wilburn, Xavier Dotson