Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Future
Future
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Nayvadius Wilburn
Nayvadius Wilburn
Songwriter
Leland Wayne
Leland Wayne
Songwriter
Jacob Canady
Jacob Canady
Songwriter
Joshua Luellen
Joshua Luellen
Songwriter
Ugur Tig
Ugur Tig
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Cubeatz
Cubeatz
Producer
ATL Jacob
ATL Jacob
Producer
Southside
Southside
Producer
Eric Manco
Eric Manco
Recording Engineer
Seth Firkins
Seth Firkins
Recording Engineer
Colin Leonard
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer
Vou
Vou
Producer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Ridin' strikers
Hotbox shit
[Verse 2]
Ridin' strikers through, yeah
Ridin' strikers through the hood (Skrrt)
Ridin' strikers through your hood, yeah (Ridin' strikers through)
Ridin' strikers through your hood, yeah
Fuck a title, you got that rifle, you need the right striker
Go for the Ferrari, a Spider, man, I had to ride a striker
I taught my young **** how to slide, go and get a striker
I put my young bitch in a G-Wagon, she ridin' strikers
[Verse 3]
I go to Jamaica then tag 'em with a hundred snipers
I dip the ice and go, woo, I step out icy, frozen
I hit professional, ooh, I have déjà vu, I know
I'm getting my decimals, ooh, I'm going digital
Spazzin' in Jimmy Choo
Bagged up plentyful
Tell me I'm supposed to be
Sober in my interview (Sober)
Last night I was growing up (I was in Fendi, too)
Took a flight, I been going up (It's a ritual)
Passport and we going up like some animals
Addy'd up and I'm gassed up, change the temperature
Triple rows, tall hoes, they identical
Minute Maid, hitek splash (Going crazy)
Drug raids, got me cold, got me cocky
Can't stand it, won't enjoy life if it ain't toxic
Cuban links, walking on ice, I don't play hockey
I was trained, standing on Front street, I'm saucy
High pro-file superstar, codeine cough
Cop the Porsche, cop the Range Rovers, King Jaffe
Kick the door, smoking sherm sticks, they opps, sees 'em
Piss poor, we sticking together like (Gang)
King Kong, I'm taking drugs out my body
Insane, inside my brain, me and my posse
[Verse 4]
Ridin' strikers through, yeah
Ridin' strikers through the hood, ****
Ridin' strikers through, yeah
Ridin' strikers through the hood, ****
Fuck a title, you got that rifle, you need the right striker
Go for the Ferrari, a Spider, man, I had to ride a striker
I taught my young **** how to slide, go and get a striker
I put my young bitch in a G-Wagon, she ridin' strikers
[Verse 5]
Ridin' strikers through
(Ridin' strikers through the hood, yeah)
(Ridin' strikers through)
(Ridin' strikers through the hood, ****)
[Verse 6]
The police need your help in tracking down a suspect in a bank robbery
This morning on city's north side
According to police, the suspect walked into the bank about nine this morning
Went straight to one of the tellers
Handed over a note that said
"Put money in bag"
[Verse 7]
Hold on
Pourin' up, drink, hold on
Now I robbed me a bank, hold on
Fuckin' on foreign, hold on
That bitch with you ain't, hold on
Whippin' up foreign, hold on
Drive it like a tank, hold on
Pourin' up drank, hold on
'Bout to rob me a bank, hold on
Smoking on pressure, hold on
Straight out a pound, hold on
Crazy ass shooter, hold on
Spraying in the crowd, hold on
Kill 'em on sight, hold on
Still go to trial, hold on
**** get life, hold on
Been scarred as a child, hold on
(Rob me a bank)
(Rob me a bank)
(Hold on)
Written by: Jacob Canady, Joshua Luellen, Kevin Gomringer, Leland Wayne, Nayvadius Wilburn, Tim Gomringer, Ugur Tig
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