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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Herbert R Wright
Rap
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
deandre woods
Songwriter
Herbert R Wright
Songwriter
Sheyaa Bin Abraham
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
DJ Victoriouz
Producer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Uh, I used to be trippin' like a mother****, uh
That's 'cause I ain't listen to a mother****
Used to take a Crush and pour a six up in that mother****
Ran it up and now I'm richer than a mother****
Glistening like a mother**** (Mother****)
I say **** 'em all, 'cause they don't got no love for us
(They don't got no love for us)
We way up top, I don't see nobody but God above us (Uh)
Get so ****, I feel like I'm in the stars
Matter fact, pull a Wraith out the garage
I just might **** around, buy eight cars
Know it's gon' only be one I'ma drive
I'm the one who made me everything I'ma be
Chose my road like the Wizard of Oz
Pop out, I look like a blizzard, my God
Look at my neck and my wrist, oh my God
This all the **** I worked hard and I prayed for
Know I deserve it, that's word to Yah
Love all my fans, and that's word to y'all
Twenty a verse, yeah, you heard the ball
Been stacking and grinding and stacking and grinding
And stacking and grinding till something tell me, "Herb, just ball"
Ten thousand ones in the VIP, watch it fall
Ain't gon' see only me shine, watch us all
No, I ain't here all the time, but they still show me love
So this **** on my hip, watch your dawg
Ain't with that drunk ****, we ain't come to brawl
Ah, you know little bro letting it off
Really it took me to stop him to keep him from dropping you
Should've just let him get off
****, I go hard in the paint
But I still'll pop out, start shooting, I'm Steph and Gasol
They tryna copy my swag but they can't keep up
They just gettin' what's left of the sauce
They like, "Damn, Swervo, what the ****? Why you keep switching up?"
Ay, I'm the king round this ****, listen up (Listen up)
And it cost nothing to get you hit up (Hit up)
Get a **** crib lit up (Up)
Walk up, hit his rib and up (Up)
Two to the head, he shaking, he checking
They want you to live, get up
That's the **** I live, it's nuts (It's nuts)
I'm alive 'cause I don't give a **** (****)
You tryna slide, it's nothing
I seen homicide, it's nothing, they said they outside, he stunting
It's 4:30 something, he on Live, but ****, we been riding since one
And we gon' ride as one, we all going down as one
Got three thirty clips, that's a hundred
Cops had me, I ain't say nothing
Told 'em to ****, ****
Still in this ****, I ain't ducking
Worth too many millions
Foe and 'em say get from around here, you tripping, you bugging
I'm just so used to thugging
Grip in this ****, I'ma buck 'em
Up with the ball, I'ma truck 'em
I gotta ball like the Rucker
Game on the line, I'ma snug 'em, **** 'em
Guess I'm a by-any-means type of mother****
[Verse 2]
We not in a frat but we step (Twenty-one)
I got more stripes than a ref (On God)
The police behind me, I left (Straight up)
I'm running till I'm out of breath (On God)
I told 'em I needed some help (Twenty-one)
They looked at me like they was deaf (On God)
We tried to be like BMF (Straight up)
But **** was all for theyself (On God)
You get extorted for playing tough
****, no cap, I was on the move
Shots went off and my Glock had jammed up
We ain't even makin' no RIP post
Till we come hit a couple y'all mans up
I don't even bring my **** round rappers
'Cause I know they gon' **** my face up
Know all my **** gon' take something
Say that you a dog, ****, shake something (Twenty-one)
Broad daylight, ****, face something (Straight up)
**** school, we was in the hood tryna make something
You was with a **** tryna cake something (On God)
Fix my plate, bet I ate something
You was lookin' for a reason so that you can hate something (Twenty-one)
You can't keep all of that **** bottled in
I wish your lil' **** ass say somethin' (****)
He did, we slid (Skrrt)
We don't give a **** 'bout your kid (On God)
My brother like Glocks and FNs
But Savage gon' keep him a SIG (No cap)
The coroner thought he had a lacefront on
The way this Draco split his wig (Straight up)
You a baby when it come to this gangster ****
Somebody get this **** a bib, ****
[Verse 3]
You little ****
Written by: Herbert R Wright, Joshua Luellen, Matthew-Kyle Adrian Brown, Sheyaa Bin Abraham, Shéyaa Bin Abraham-Joseph, deandre woods