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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Young Nudy
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Quantavious T. Thomas
Songwriter
Timothy Jordan Jenks
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Pi’erre Bourne
Producer
Bradley "DJ BJ" Whitaker
Assistant Engineer
Joe LaPorta
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Smokin' on stank, man, I know that, yeah
Shoot you in your head, turn your head to a throwback
Big shit, y'all don't want that, yeah
Whole lotta guns, bullshit, man, I'm on that
And young **** get money, yeah
Big booty bitch, yeah, monkey, uh
In the hood, actin' whole donkey, yeah
Bullshit, slime stay on it, yeah
Stick on my side like my sideline
Pull up in your hood, that's a drive-by
30 round drum on my Glock
Pull up on 'em, pop, pop, pop off your top
Y'all **** talk, but you ain't really wit' it
Bullshit, slimeball stay wit' it
And your ho really wanna get wit' me
Beat the ho, yeah, from the back end
[Verse 2]
In the club, turnin' up wit' all the racks
And I got a gun, yeah, I count all the stacks
**** wanna play slime, shoot him in the back
Stab 'em in the back, yeah, I'm wit' all of that
Grimy motherfucker, slimy motherfucker
Try me, motherfucker, find that motherfucker, yeah
Bitch hit my phone and she wanna ride that motherfucker
Yeah, that's on top, man, ride that dick
Yeah, your bitch wanna suck my dick
**** wanna hate 'cause I do this shit
Whole lotta money, I was meant to be rich
And you ain't, yeah
[Verse 3]
And you ain't
I don't even know, I don't even know
I don't even know, I don't even know
I don't even know, but I stay on it, yeah
Bullshit, I stay on it
And I get money, yeah, **** hate on me
Uh, I know it
And I notice, and I know it, uh
[Verse 4]
Hop out that two-door, yeah, that there whip
And I sold dope, yeah, I made all the trips
Came out a seed, yeah, I made all the flips
Overseas money, yeah, it came right here
Pat just touched down, I just bust it down
Gang eatin' now
Yeah, we eat now
**** play a young **** wit' five hunnid rounds
Chop up your block 'fore you sleep, ****
Y'all **** talkin' 'bout some beef, ****
Put you on a plate, then we eat, ****
Whole lotta money round me, ****
Young **** racked up, count up the backend
In the club turnt up, fuck up the backend
Y'all **** hate, spin your head on the back end
Shooters gon' pull up with your head on the back end, yeah
Huh, yeah, I like to flex
Young **** wit' a check
Yeah, I like to call a ho, make her give me neck
And I'm real slimy, show the ho no respect, yeah
Rat-a-tat-tat when it jump out the TEC
[Verse 5]
In the club, turnin' up wit' all the racks
And I got a gun, yeah, I count all the stacks
**** wanna play slime, shoot him in the back
Stab 'em in the back, yeah, I'm wit' all of that
Grimy motherfucker, slimy motherfucker
Try me, motherfucker, find that motherfucker, yeah
Bitch hit my phone and she wanna ride that motherfucker, yeah
That's on top, man, ride that dick
Yeah, your bitch wanna suck my dick
**** wanna hate 'cause I do this shit
Whole lotta money, I was meant to be rich
And you ain't, yeah
And you ain't
I don't even know, I don't even know
I don't even know, I don't even know
[Verse 6]
Smoke dope
Be high, be happy, get you some money
Don't be like these bitch ass ****, man
Feel what I'm sayin'?
Stay solid
Uh, you know
Stay on your ten
You know
And just be real to yourself
Keep it real with yourself, you know
You only keep it ninety-nine percent wit' these ****, dawg
You feel me?
Not a hunnid, fuck 'em
Written by: Quantavious T. Thomas, Timothy Jordan Jenks