Similar Songs
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Cae Cartier
Vocals
Spancy
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Egor Vikhrovskii
Composer
Caleb Noel
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Spancy
Producer
Isaac "Soundsfromikey" Copeland
Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
Hold on, make sure that camera clear
**** talking 'bout they want some smoke, we give out cancer here
Switches on my glizzies, is it tension in this atmosphere?
Told me she gon' leave, well you can go, bitch, ain't no manners here
Hold on, new Glock, mask on
Bitch, you know you past wrong
This blunt taste like a dead ****
Try it, boy, this gas strong
They say rap **** be bitches, well, this might just be my last song
If you ain't tryna fuck, why you pull up? Bitch, get yo ass on (Go)
Heard he was a threat, okay, come bring yo block in here (Come on)
All my **** reckless, raise yo hand if you got opps in here
Tried to get her, back on Instagram, you know I'm blocked on there
I'ma cut out both my eyes before you see me drop a tear
Boutta bitch, switch, hit, mix tris and wock in here
She gon' miss this, if you sorry, give me top in here (Top)
Send him in a box back to you, I feel like I'm wop in here
I feel like Lil Flock in here, I feel like I'm Tupac in here
I know she gon' tell it, pushing P, can't oversell it
Can't wait to sacrifice one of you **** like I'm Melly
I can't drop the dot, I told her pull up to the telly (Huh)
Fuck that bitch, I got up on my shit, what can you tell me?
Hold up, young ****, please don't make me pay one of my young ****
Not a sound, knock him down, drum triggers
They gave me the game, now I can run with it
Ain't no back and forth, he say it's up, okay, what's there to talk about? (Go)
He say it's up, okay ****, ya dead
I'm tryna put a .50 on his top and bust his head
I'm tryna bless the hoe and put her on, but she keep acting like she's scared
She text my phone, I left that stupid bitch on read
Cut out my heart, I don't need no love
Snakes up in my grass, I see a cobra
Hit 'em with that PM I just make his belly fold up
Signed a deal and got my neck and ice just froze up
Got these groupie bitches walking with they nose up
Hold up, young ****, please don't make me pay one of my young ****
Not a sound, knock him down, drum triggers
They gave me the game, now I can run with it
Ain't no back and forth, he say it's up, okay, what's there to talk about?
Written by: Caleb Noel, Egor Vikhrovskii