Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Co Cash
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Terrico Bowen
Composer
Anthony L Holmes, Jr.
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Hitkidd
Producer
Clay Krucial Perry
Mixing Engineer
Tatsuya Sato
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
(HitKidd, what it do, mane?)
[Verse 2]
Where do I begin? Take 'em way back when
I committed all my sins to just to come up on my ends (Facts)
I was outside, mama tried to keep me in
On the block with my friends, that's what turned us into men
Told 'em don't call me Cuz if a **** not my kin
When I got put on the set, dat was back in 2010
Or it mighta been '11, either way a **** been
Really reppin', we was bangin' out da window of da 'Fin
Told 'em wait! Don't set trip, I got **** big Crip
Even as a baby G, still had big drip
Feelin' like I'm RiRi, tell a bitch don't slip
Lot of **** hated me, tell 'em suck a dick tip
Back on my bullshit, damn I feel like Scottie Pip
Gas like the Quik Trip, got biscotti by the zip
Who is them lil **** over there keep lookin' in the whip?
Fully loaded clip on my hip, so don't even trip
[Verse 3]
How could me and you ever beef? I don't eat meat
My lil **** keep a broom, 'cause he like to street sweep
I can get him gone for the free or the cheap-cheap
Cleanest **** in the room all you hear is "squeak, squeak"
See a **** buzzin' so these **** wanna 'bee' me
Chains like a slave, but they still can't beat me
Flawless diamonds on my teeth, you won't spot a VV
Slutty bitches flock around me like a freaknik
If lil mama bad enough then I might take her to the suite
She gon' suck me til doze off like I'm in a Jeep
At the round table, make sure all my **** got a seat
Kick shit on the phone with Da Mack and my lil **** Reese
Ice up on me cold, why you think I'm rockin Gucci fleece?
Just got off the phone with Wafi, think I need another piece
Big dog chain 'round my collar, I don't have a leash
If he reach, like a softball put him on a tee
[Verse 4]
This lil' **** be the littest (Yup)
Period end of the sentence (Yup)
Been wit' it since the beginnin' (Yup)
Dennis, I was a lil' menace (Yup)
Keep me some racks in my skinnies tucked (Rackets)
I'm ballin', go get ya minutes up (Get up off the bench)
Come get ya pretty lil' bitty, Chuck (Come get her)
'Cause she beggin' me to come titty fuck
I been too humble like way too long (Too fucking long)
Don't have a need to be made a loan
I jumped off the porch and you stayed at home
Been da shit before I made a song
My lil' bitch yellow like Grey Poupon (Baddy)
Came in the door in her shades and thong
I fuck these hoes then wave 'em gone (Bye)
Put that bitch out 'cause she stayed too long (Bye)
When I came in, I didn't want a co-sign
I said fuck it, I'm fine, I'ma do it myself
These **** whack and be wastin' they time
'Cause whenever they sign they get put on da shelf
I'm living lavish, I dropped my bad habits
I do not eat swine 'cause I care 'bout my health
Don't need a spotlight, I'm still gonna shine
'Cause this lil' light of mine got me covered in wealth
[Verse 5]
(Shhh) I'm moving in stealth
I'm too much, don't know what to do with myself
I spent what you spent on ya jewels on a belt
My ****, you makin' a fool of ya self
And I bet these lil **** know who to play
Dolce my shades, I feel groovy today
I'm a boss so they gon' do what I say
Said I was broke, that was foolish to say
'Posed to be chasing this money but you just a dummy
You steady be chasing these hoes
Fuck **** stay out my way, I'm back poppin' my shit
And don't care if I'm steppin' on toes
Pressin' on all of my foes and ain't talkin' 'bout dancin'
But I'm kickin' shit with my woes
I'm way too solid for bendin' and so is this paper
Boy, my money can't even fold
[Verse 6]
(HitKidd, what it do, mane?)
[Verse 7]
This joint so fuckin' gangsta
Written by: Anthony Holmes, Anthony L Holmes, Jr., Terrico Bowen