Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Trouble
Trouble
Vocals
YFN Lucci
YFN Lucci
Vocals
Budda Beats
Budda Beats
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Rayshawn Lamar Bennett
Rayshawn Lamar Bennett
Songwriter
Zachary D. Thomas
Zachary D. Thomas
Songwriter
Mariel Orr
Mariel Orr
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
John Horesco
John Horesco
Mastering Engineer
Keith Dawson
Keith Dawson
Mixing Engineer
Budda Beats
Budda Beats
Producer

Lyrics

[Intro]
Uh, uh, oh-oh (It's Budda Beats)
Yeah, look
[Chorus]
A young ****, I never had shit, uh
I'ma wreck the Porsche, damn near crashed it
When I'm in that big body, I gotta back in
Ayy, when I'm in that big body, I gotta back in
I got a trey poured up, shit nasty, yeah
I just gotta fuck with her 'cause she nasty, hey
I got like two million in a Gucci bag
I'm at the Four Seasons countin' hella cash, hah-uh
[Verse 1]
Okay, look, money counter on the dresser
The way she pop that pussy, I just had to tip her, uh
The way I work that Glock, they think I'm Brian Niccol
You would've thought he broke a bone, put all that iron in him, yeah, look
My lil' dawgs killin' for a hobby
Them my lil' dawgs, them young **** with dreads up in the lobby
Them my lil' dawgs, them young **** don't play about shawty
Yeah, them my lil' dawgs, them young **** ain't scared to get it poppin', uh, uh
They got pistols, huh, and we got pistols
I'ma smoke one of your homeboys, we don't smoke Swishers
He got kicked out of the whip, I just can't roll with him
Old rattin' ass ****, I just can't fuck with him, uh, uh
Huh, Greedy doin' ten 'cause of your man
Ju gotta go sit down again
I'm tired of losin' my **** to the pen', yeah (Nah, I swear)
I'm tired of losin' my **** to the lead (Fuck)
[Chorus]
A young ****, I never had shit, uh (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
I'ma wreck the Porsche, damn near crashed it
When I'm in that big body, I gotta back in (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Ayy, when I'm in that big body, I gotta back in (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
I got a trey poured up, shit nasty, yeah (This shit get nasty)
I just gotta fuck with her 'cause she nasty, hey (Ooh, this ho nasty)
I got like two million in a Gucci bag (Yeah)
I'm at the Four Seasons countin' hella cash, hah-uh
[Verse 2]
I just left my plug house, twenty bricks, I'm cashin' out
Porsche truck got totaled, shootout, I'm shootin' back, I'm crashin' out
Big body Benz, on Lord, I'm talkin' 'bout ho, her ass be out
Every time I see them boys, I'm goin' for it, no backin' out
My stack be tellin' me to chill like, "You ain't got music, you rappin' now"
Told that bitch justice so real, I just go buy they casket now, ayy
Luwhop, and we got Guwop, ain't talkin' 'bout my bills
Stackin' fetty, green cash, mula, and ain't talkin' 'bout myself
Fast forward, B done smoked all of your last boys
Boolin', passport, fly your bitch out, she ain't even ask for it
The work god, kickin' shit out fast as landlords
Your bitch goin', I'm Mike without that badge on Bad Boys
She got a rich ****, I told her keep him
Nothing is guaranteed, so I promise you we might need him
Creepin' and we gon' sleep him
Now I'm back up and all my people
We servin' and workin', fiends hit my ho raw 'cause she got Fiji
On the plate, then they gon' eat it
[Chorus]
A young ****, I never had shit, uh
I'ma wreck the Porsche, damn near crashed it
When I'm in that big body, I gotta back in
Ayy, when I'm in that big body, I gotta back in
I got a trey poured up, shit nasty, yeah
I just gotta fuck with her 'cause she nasty, hey
I got like two million in a Gucci bag
I'm at the Four Seasons countin' hella cash, hah-uh
Written by: Mariel Semonte Orr, Rayshawn Lamar Bennett, Zachary D. Thomas
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