Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Q Money
Performer
Bobby Kritical
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Bobby Turner
Songwriter
Qamar A. Williams
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
John Horesco
Mastering Engineer
Finis "KY" White
Mixing Engineer
Bobby Kritical
Producer
Marquee Smith
Recording Engineer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Too much bands, **** can't hold up his pants
Hit a club doin' my dance
I been gettin' too much money, trappin' all night
So I give a bitch pipe when I can
I been on way too many desert flights
So the pilot and the flight attendants know who I am
Used to serve grams out a grey Dodge van
Even back then I was doing my dance
Even my teachers said I wouldn't be shit
Even my priest said I wouldn't be shit
That's why I spent that much on my wrist
That's why I spent that much on your bitch
I'm the same ****, I ain't never had shit
I'm the same young **** that was gettin' wick
Better not think this shit no lick
I can make one call, get your whole shit flipped, bitch
[Verse 2]
Yeah
Young **** run around with a whole 100 on him, God damn
Young **** run around with a whole 100 bands
Hit a strip club, these bitches just know who I am
In a strip club, blow that money like a fan
Got too much bands, battle of the bands in my pants
****, you a fan, I'm poppin' shit like a xan, poppin' shit, perc 10
Private jet when I land, palm trees in the sand
Bought a new FN, hit you and your mans, what the fuck is you sayin'?
Fuck is you sayin'?
[Verse 3]
**** counted me out, I was sleepin' on the couch, why the fuck was you doubtin'?
Yeah, keep a 9 on me, no golf
Yeah, **** had to find his way out
Yeah, **** had to take a different route
Fuck around, got a deal then moved to the South
Yeah, I was tryna make my mama proud
Remember when her ass used to kick me out
Now I'm 'bout to fuck around, buy a new house
And cash what's still gon' fall on her couch
Fuck 'round get my mouth bussdown
My grandma told me to invest in my smile
Brand new Rollie with a Arabic dial
With bracelet 'cause the other hand felt left out
Two tone Cuban on my neck right now
Just like my wrist, your bitch bussdown, yeah
[Verse 4]
Yeah
Young **** run around with a whole 100 on him, God damn
Young **** run around with a whole 100 bands
Hit a strip club, these bitches just know who I am
In a strip club, blow that money like a fan
Got too much bands, battle of the bands in my pants
****, you a fan, I'm poppin' shit like a xan, poppin' shit, perc 10
Private jet when I land, palm trees in the sand
Bought a new FN, hit you and your mans, what the fuck is you sayin'?
Fuck is you sayin'?
Written by: Bobby Turner, Qamar A. Williams