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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
YG
YG
Vocals
Terrace Martin
Terrace Martin
Keyboards
Smooth
Smooth
Additional Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Leland Wayne
Leland Wayne
Songwriter
Keenon Jackson
Keenon Jackson
Songwriter
David Axelrod
David Axelrod
Songwriter
Brian Bailey
Brian Bailey
Songwriter
Melvin Charles Bradford
Melvin Charles Bradford
Songwriter
Calvin Broadus
Calvin Broadus
Songwriter
Andre Romell Young
Andre Romell Young
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Metro Boomin
Metro Boomin
Producer
Dee Brown
Dee Brown
Recording Engineer
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Mixing Engineer
James Hunt
James Hunt
Assistant Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
It was 1:00 in the morning and I was up yawning
Moms asked where I'm going, to the hood if you ain't know it
Pops locked up so mama couldn't stop me
I was out the house, ASAP Rocky
And it wasn't 'cause she couldn't control us
We was a baby, she just wanted to hold us
And we ain't get disciplined, her friend started whisperin'
'Bout how she was a bad mama, mama said fuck 'em then
I was in the streets stylin', nobody could tell me nothin'
Grandpa, Grandma, no my auntie or my favorite cousin
I was busting
Fucking all these hoes wearing no condoms, no nothing
I used to ditch school when the homie had the Chevy
I used to sneak and smoke stress weed
[Verse 2]
But now I'm rolling on dubs
How you feel, whooptie whoop, **** what?
Now I'm rolling on dubs
How you feel, whooptie whoop, **** what?
All these hoes showing love
How you feel, whooptie whoop, **** what?
All these hoes showing love
How you feel, whooptie whoop, **** what?
[Verse 3]
Skrrt, I was on a mission
On a mission to the money, sun down till it sunny
Know my family love me
Riding in the car with the two **** and a pistol
This ain't funny, I do it all for the money, hold up
Slowly as I pull up to the donut stand
I already know the plan, hop out and get on your mans
And take what he got
Go through pockets, wallets and socks, and dig all the knots
It's a stick up
Phone ring, it's my mama in the middle of some drama
So I don't pick up thinking I gotta get my shit up
I gotta pick my bitch up
Let's hurry up and leave, I feel the police near us
So we left, with a thousand dollars cash
It was me and my ****, so you know I want half
This shit get real, when **** get greedy
Pop, pop, pop, pop, that's when he leave me
Written by: Andre Romell Young, Brian Bailey, Calvin Broadus, David Axelrod, Keenon Jackson, Leland Wayne, Melvin Charles Bradford
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