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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
EST Gee
Vocals
@nfeparis
Programming
FOREVEROLLING
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
George Stone III
Songwriter
Jeffrey Lynn Jones
Songwriter
@nfeparis
Songwriter
Kameron Johnson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
FOREVEROLLING
Producer
Peter A. Barker
Mixing Engineer
Royce Monroe
Mixing Engineer
@nfeparis
Producer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
I had a book before I wrote a hook
Tried it and it took
His is bendy, Fendi blended, pressed and pushed, J wan' kiss the cook
This big choppa'll chop a niggar roof, gangsta as I look
If somethin' get killed, they hide for two, three months
We chase shit down on foot
Try and bump, it ain't no fun, **** ain't outside to hunt
You was hating, I had a hunch
I set something up and something get slumped
He don't like that it's a front, put me in a song for what
Even if it blow you bet not never post a show or nothing
They get the lo' and don't do nothing
We get the lo', a soul go up
Why you fake want smoke with us, as if yo bucks ain't slow enough?
**** dead, I ain't make no diss, I make hits, they know what's up
When we war I'm in the front, but when y'all beef, you loaded lux
On the phone he sounds so tough, I pulled up, **** wasn't on nothing
Most murders last thirty months, a **** still ain't call my bluff
[Chorus]
Momma always told me, "Baby, seeing is believing"
We slid on people, it wasn't 'bout beefing, **** ain't no demons
You know to keep yo' moves quiet, dying if I see 'em
The reason **** know to up they eeky ain't no squeaking
The reason **** grieving, try to clique up, make it even
The reason **** need help breathing, doctor, stop the bleeding
The reason **** people pay for peace but ain't no treaty
The reason **** grieving, I'm tryna cook up, make it even
[Verse 2]
You ain't gotta tell me **** bums, it ain't on nothin like I ain't serving
Last time we was face to face, that weekend was a funeral service
It's gon' always end in hearses, I took over through murder
I'ma boss but suit up like a worker, I'ma on this on purpose
We slide, I'll put the cleats aside and wet the field with Jergens
All dat talking, I think **** worthless, it's starting to make me nervous
That stick involved in several murders, clean, but it's still dirty
And the gang will bless me, 'cause I play with courage, streets on top my jersey
I got rich and get you stretched for thirty, Houston to New Jersey
It took pain for me to find my purpose, make sure I was worthy
I ain't say nothing and they all heard me, however I word it
To see me shine, I know they dying, they can't decide which worse
[Chorus]
Momma always told me, "Baby, seeing is believing"
We slid on people, it wasn't 'bout beefing, **** ain't no demons
You know to keep yo' moves quiet, dying if I see 'em
The reason **** know to up they eeky ain't no squeaking
The reason **** grieving, try to clique up, make it even
The reason **** need help breathing, doctor, stop the bleeding
The reason **** people pay for peace but ain't no treaty
The reason **** grieving, I'm tryna cook up, make it even
Written by: Brian Roke, George Stone, George Stone III, Jeffrey Lynn Jones, Kameron Johnson