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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
EST Gee
Vocals
Future
Vocals
BeazyTymes
Programming
Westen Weiss
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
George Stone III
Songwriter
Jawan Shelton
Songwriter
Nayvadius Wilburn
Songwriter
Westen Weiss
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
BeazyTymes
Producer
Westen Weiss
Producer
Eric Fernandez
Mixing Engineer
Rich Keller
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
[Intro]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Only way to get this with the—
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, shirt off with no mask at all, I train my dog with mannitol
Clearest water, this the one made Jesus take his sandals off
Come knock on the devil's door, make sure you turn your camera off
It's Js in here, white all on they face, but they ain't Santa Claus
I'm tryna do the math on how much more it take to get this car
Never thought I'd get this far, iced both my arms, my wrists is sore
I never been this up before, I'm paranoid as ever
7.62 clip curve in this AR for protection (Brr, brr)
Karma can't even catch up, did my first dirt like '07
Even back then, I'd tell you, I'ma be like this forever
It was hot, I made it swelter, hot like sit-downs with the devil (Hot, hot)
Like, the only way to get this to my state is if we mail it
And the bond we built was special, all the game, my gang was separate
And they love me 'cause they know I'll catch a case and I ain't tellin' (I ain't tellin')
Whoa, whoa, gas on the track and throw mud on it
Washin' my chain got blood on it (Whoa)
The end of the barrel got blood on it (Whoa)
Came out the zoo, hide a check in the floor (Whoa, whoa)
I don't put it on if ain't twenty or more
I committed sins in Christian Dior
Hold up, a G-Wagon holdin' my arm
Finessin' and trappin', made millions off rappin', just go to Zone 6, they gon' say I'm the G.O.A.T (Whoa, whoa, whoa)
Demons, piranhas, I'm movin' official, I keep me a shooter wherever I go (Yeah)
I take pills and I sip lean, bitch, I don't feel right tryna drive a boat (Whoa)
I'm out the trenches, I turned up my granny house, I had them Js knockin' at the door (Whoa, whoa)
I'm a different type of breed with the corner, braids **** chains, spoil her, bro
I'm a different type of **** with the corner, stretchin' all the work and pimpin' a ho
One thousand one pure cocaine, spend it on one of my chains
Uh, one thousand one trillion bullets come behind my name
Whoa, whoa, fuck my shooter, I'll shoot it myself (Shoot it myself)
Fuck my shooter, I'll shoot it myself (Shoot it myself)
Fuck my shooter, I'll shoot it myself (Shoot it myself)
Whoa, whoa, fuck my shooter, I'll shoot it myself (Shoot it myself)
Fuck my shooter, I'll shoot it myself (Shoot it myself)
Fuck my shooter, I'll shoot it myself (Shoot it myself)
I get into it with one of my opps, a **** body gotta drop
And ain't nobody gon' tell me stop, I'll shoot it myself
I come through a **** block, ain't gotta worry 'bout talkin' to cops
The reason a **** holdin' this Glock, I'll shoot it myself
Yeah, I'll shoot it myself
I'll shoot it myself
Yeah, I'll shoot it myself
Yeah, ****, I'll shoot it myself
Huh, I'll shoot it myself
Fuck you talkin' 'bout, ****? I'll shoot it myself
Whoa, whoa, I'll shoot it myself (Shoot it myself)
Whoa, fuck you sayin', ****? I'll shoot it myself
Yeah, yeah, top somethin', I ain't tryna shoot at no vest
Why the boy out and still movin' this meth?
It'll never sit my way, get pressed
Movin' my H, my hank gettin' stretched
Been drinkin' this Quagen, it taste like Tech
Purple and red, I don't drink no grits
It's a nasty pourin', I'm drinkin' this Tris
It's a slime, 5.56
It got green on the tip (It got green)
He couldn't breathe, he got hit (He couldn't breathe, he got)
Bullets jumpin' to him like it springs on a cliff (Bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, bah)
It's Celine when I drip (Celine when I)
I spit out phlegm on your bitch (Phlegm on your)
**** can't say they my opps, I'm just a demon they met (I'm just a demon they met)
Written by: George Stone III, Jawan Shelton, Nayvadius Wilburn, Western Weiss