Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Pop Smoke
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Alex Petit
Songwriter
Ellis Newton
Songwriter
Bashar Barakah Jackson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
CashMoneyAp
Producer
Jess Jackson
Mastering Engineer
Sage Skofield
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Sean Solymar
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Rose Adams
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Corey Nutile
Recording Engineer
50 Cent
Executive Producer
Bashar Barakah Jackson
Executive Producer
Rico Beats
Executive Producer
Steven Victor
Executive Producer
Swirv
Producer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Them **** gotta hear what the fuck I'm talkin' about (Woo, woo)
Feel me Lil' Z?
On the set, that's some real shit, ****, uh (I be in New York with the gangstas, gangstas)
I don't want none of that extra loud shit
This ain't none of that rainbow hair shit, know what I'm sayin' (I be in New York with the gangstas)
This the real street, yeah, uh
(I be in New York with the gangstas)
Fuckin' voice of the streets, man
It's like Jesus walkin' (Woozin' automatics)
More like Christopher Walken, uh (I be with the straights and the apes)
Y'all know what's up (Talkin' stone to stone)
(Bringin' bags, Woo, Woo)
(Free all my ****, free all the streets)
[Verse 2]
I be in New York with the gangstas
Know a **** that'll shoot you for a 'tander (Grrt)
If my opps is chillin' in the foreign (Bah)
Then my **** shootin' up the Phantom (Bah, Bah)
[Verse 3]
I be in New York with the gangstas (Woo)
Know a **** that'll shoot you for a 'tander (Bah)
If my opps is chillin' in the foreign (Oh, lackin' ass ****)
Then my **** shootin' up the Phantom (Grrt)
[Verse 4]
.44 got a kickback (Bah), click-clack, get back (Bah)
Shots at your rib pack (Grrt) or you could get chin checked (Woo)
Them trollin' **** actin' up (Actin' up)
So **** packed 'em up (Pack him up)
Brazy was actin' tough, till **** slapped him up (Pussy)
Pop Smoke on top, **** mad as fuck (Mad)
Six by six, big Benz on my wrist
If you don't got your nails done, you are not it (Woo)
Automatically on the blocked list (Blocked, bitch)
**** talkin' 'bout their guns (Guns), but never shot shit (Cap)
Might as well put a cap on it, all over with a chopstick (Pussy)
Run up and I'm brandin' them, takin' **** shoppin' (Bitch)
Reach and I'm branchin' it, 'cause I don't know who watchin' (I'm on point)
It's a Ginger Ale and Henny day, eased up on the crème brulee
38's on the block (Bah), a **** won't hesitate (Bah)
Had to move these bitches out (Move 'em), 'cause they was in the way
I wouldn't want them to get shot by an enemy
[Verse 5]
I be in New York with the gangstas (And what's up?)
Know a **** that'll shoot you for a 'tander (Grrt)
If my opps is chillin' in the foreign (Bah)
Then my **** shootin' up the Phantom (Bah, bah)
[Verse 6]
I be in New York with the gangstas (Woo)
Know a **** that'll shoot you for a 'tander (Bah)
If my opps is chillin' in the foreign (Oh, lackin' ass ****)
Then my **** shootin' up the Phantom (Grrt)
Written by: Alex Petit, Bashar Barakah Jackson, Ellis Newton