Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Blac Youngsta
Blac Youngsta
Vocals
EST Gee
EST Gee
Vocals
Yo Gotti
Yo Gotti
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
David Morse
David Morse
Songwriter
Mario Mims
Mario Mims
Songwriter
George Stone III
George Stone III
Songwriter
Sammie Benson
Sammie Benson
Songwriter
Jeffrey Lynn Jones Jr
Jeffrey Lynn Jones Jr
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
FOREVEROLLING
FOREVEROLLING
Producer
David Morse
David Morse
Producer
Fabian Marasciullo
Fabian Marasciullo
Mixing Engineer
Liz Robson
Liz Robson
Recording Engineer
Johngotitt
Johngotitt
Recording Engineer
Leo Goff
Leo Goff
Executive Producer

Lyrics

[Intro]
(FOREVERROLLING)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
[Verse 1]
He must thought this shit was sweet, but it's a Sour Patch (Sour Patch)
Yankin' all through Tennessee, lost police like a hour back
He gon' get found hit up if he diss us, that's how I'll react
AR out the window, make his trigger clap like jumpin' jacks
It's gon' be a killin' if we found out that you fuck wit' that
Get low, I shoot this pole, chop' make him limbo, no hittin' back (Ain't no hittin' back)
You heard somethin' 'bout it, I can take you where they do it at (Take you where they do it at)
They don't want no ZaZa, this where snorters and them shooters at
Raw, I mean, I started wit' a ball and flipped to two, three zaps
Silly fool, kickin' it wit' dude like you ain't know he rat? (You ain't know he told?)
You got picks and choose, I ain't got no picks, all of 'em get this clip (All of 'em get this gun)
I up this blick, I shoot, I ain't gon' miss, now when he talk, he spit (When he talk he spit)
Playin' tough, ****, you been a bitch, like when he walk his switch (Like when he walk his switch)
[Verse 2]
(Yeah boy, I heard you been a bitch, you probably take 'em)
Ayy, this that slide music (Yeah)
Grab yo' blick, go hit the switch, somebody died to it
Some of these **** ain't killers, they actually murderers, they really in fifth (Fifth)
I seen a **** poppin' Ecstasy (What?), blame the body on a pill (Damn)
Bitch tried to hurt me (Hurt me), I popped a perky (Perky), bitch, I'm good (I'm good)
Numb to the pain (I am), my feelings don't even exist (At all)
Really if it's 'bout a bitch, **** (Yuh), why it's all the rich ****?
Executive drug dealer, who the fuck raise you ****? (Who that?)
You ain't never watch 48 Hours?
You don't understand law and power? (Do you?)
I cherish this thing of ours, let me gon give my **** they flowers (Let's get it)
Rollie, Rollie, Richard AP, can't buy time in these streets
Don't put time in these freaks, everybody shine, just not me
Who you ever help, ****? (Who?)
You only 'bout yourself, **** (Facts)
You ain't a boss, you ain't got a trace
You ain't a boss, you ain't got the vision
Seen this shit when I was in the kitchen
Turned around, then I went and did it
[Chorus]
Walkin' out of each state, wit' a choppa on me (Choppa on me)
Damn, first it was the feds, now paparazzi on me (Paparazzi on me)
(Yeah, first it was the feds, now paparazzi on me)
[Verse 3]
Headshot, bury him, dig him up, turn around, do it again (Gang, gang, gang, gang)
I'm too consistent wit' murder, my shooters gon' do him in (Bow, bow, bow)
When I up this fire, **** gon' sing just like a violin (Gang, gang, gang, gang)
Bitch, you cross yo' head, yo' mammy, she gon' miss her child then (Pussy)
I'm cutthroat retarded wit' the Draco, I'll put you to shame (Pussy)
**** play wit' me one time, I swear that lil' shit cost his brain (Pussy)
Walk 'em down, certified, streets'll tell you 'fore I got the fame
Switches on my Glock, all my young ****, shit, I ain't got no aim
(Gang, gang, gang, gang, gang)
[Chorus]
Walkin' out of each state, wit' a choppa on me (Choppa on me)
Damn, first it was the feds, now paparazzi on me (Paparazzi on me)
(Yeah, first it was the feds, now paparazzi on me)
[Outro]
That's crazy
First it was the feds, now paparazzi on me
That's crazy G, you hear?
They still takin' pictures though
Written by: David James Morse, George Stone, George Stone III, Jeffrey Lynn Jones Jr, Kameron Johnson, Mario Mims, Sammie Benson
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