Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Aminé
Vocals
Gunna
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Irvin Mejia
Songwriter
Adam Aminé Daniel
Songwriter
Latrell Boyd
Songwriter
Sergio Kitchens
Songwriter
Terry Watson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Morning Estrada
Mixing Engineer
Tee-WaTT
Producer
Tedd Boyd
Co-Producer
Emmanuel Gallegos
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Adam Aminé Daniel
Co-Producer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Bo-bossed up, yeah
Bossed (Hey)
[Verse 2]
My wrist swole (True)
My wrist swole (True)
You ain't want no problems, bitch, no hiccups (No hiccups)
No hiccups, no hiccups (No hiccups, no hiccups)
You ain't 'bout that drama, bitch, no hiccups (No hiccups)
I don't trust no one (No one)
My wrist is lookin' frozen (Ice)
Ice cold, too cold, numb (It's cold)
I rewind (Blah)
[Verse 3]
Gave her dick and then I split, mhm
Workin' like I got a shift, mhm
Youngest **** poppin' shit, mhm
Don't want no kids that's bad as shit, yeah (No way)
Pass my hoe like give and go, mhm
Twenty four on twenty fours, mhm (Skrrt)
Diamonds on my bitch, mhm (On my bitch)
That's drip all on my wrist, mhm (Yeah, on my wrist)
[Verse 4]
Ass fat, yeah (Thick)
Bring it right back (Sick)
I-I'm in the VIP, 'cause they pay me for this shit
I'ma be up if it's bill
That's your car note on my wrist (Huh?)
[Verse 5]
My wrist swole (My wrist)
My wrist swole (My wrist)
You ain't want no problems, bitch, no hiccups (No hiccups)
No hiccups, no hiccups (No hiccups, no hiccups)
You ain't 'bout that drama, bitch, no hiccups (No hiccups)
I don't trust no one (No one)
My wrist is lookin' frozen (Ice)
Ice cold, too cold, numb (It's cold)
I rewind (Blah)
[Verse 6]
Gave her dick and then I split (Fuck a Birkin)
Workin' like I got a shift (Puttin' work in)
Youngest **** poppin' shit (Bitch, I'm certain)
Don't want no kids, that's bad as shit (Oh, I, I have plans)
Pass my hoe like give and go (Pass it right back)
Twenty four on twenty fours (Yeah, it's like that)
Diamonds on my bitch, mhm
That's drip all on my wrist, mhm
[Verse 7]
Cold diamonds on my bitch, mhm
Cuban bracelets on my wrist, mhm
Man, you hear that we got rich, mhm
Michael Jordan for the kids, mhm
I'm connected like a bridge, mhm
Copped my bitch the latest Mercedes-Benz
I was all alone, Young Gunna ain't got no friends
Met your bitch at the mall and spent a couple bands
Don't talk at all, ain't into shakin' hands
She offer me some pussy, might finesse
My first baguettes are lookin' like some glass
Might pull the pedal tryna do the dash, mhm
[Verse 8]
Mhm
Yeah, mhm
Yeah, mhm
Yeah, mhm
Written by: Adam Aminé Daniel, Irvin Mejia, L. Boyd, T Watson