Music Video

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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Nardo Wick
Nardo Wick
Vocals
BIG30
BIG30
Vocals
Babyface Ray
Babyface Ray
Vocals
G Herbo
G Herbo
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kaysan Ghasseminejad
Kaysan Ghasseminejad
Songwriter
Horace Walls III
Horace Walls III
Songwriter
Marcellus Rayvon Register
Marcellus Rayvon Register
Songwriter
Herbert R Wright
Herbert R Wright
Songwriter
Rodney Lamont Wright Jr.
Rodney Lamont Wright Jr.
Songwriter
Subhaan Rahmaan
Subhaan Rahmaan
Songwriter
Mark Sweet
Mark Sweet
Songwriter
Donny Flores
Donny Flores
Songwriter
Isaac De Boni
Isaac De Boni
Songwriter
Michael Mule
Michael Mule
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
FaZe Kaysan
FaZe Kaysan
Producer
Haan
Haan
Producer
FNZ
FNZ
Producer

Lyrics

(Kaysan) All my opps Brad Pitts Fuck out of here All these, all these niggas do is act gangster Them niggas ain't gangster Plenty guns, we got plenty clips We got plenty guns, we got plenty clips We got plenty guns, we got plenty clips We got plenty guns, we got plenty clips We got plenty guns, plenty clips, plenty guns, plenty clips Plenty guns, plenty clips, plenty guns, plenty clips Plenty guns, plenty clips, plenty guns, plenty clips Plenty guns, plenty clips, plenty guns, plenty clips Since them niggas act, pull up with clips and shoot a movie (shoot a movie) Depend on how good we do, this shit might make the TV too (shit might make the news) Dependin' how good we do, might come out for a part two (spin again) Pull up with cannons, bro-bro, you direct, and I'm gon' shoot (grrah, grahh, grahh) Red alert, dead alert, what my brother see? A nigga just got put to bed alert (he got put asleep) This a supercharge, love to make it jerk (vroom, vroom) This a wicked hoe, my song come on, she twerk (yeah, yeah, yeah) Feel like Drizzy mama 30 years ago, the way I carry Drac' Lil' bruh knock on the door and run, the knob twist, I let it shake My tried to jump the fence, I heard he died on the gate They say one shot and missed 'em all Hello? Bet, I just heard he got shot in his face Headshot, ain't no leg shots, bitch nigga 40 blast, we gon' take his ass off the list, nigga Breakin' glass, got him' takin' ass when we blitz niggas Think lil' bro done whipped a baby ass, keep that switch with 'em (brrt) Ayy, jump out, we don't play (bah) Split up, went both ways Shut up, we don't say (shut the fuck up) Nothin', he in the way Get hit up, can't even get up, he hit in the face And niggas that's livin', we can't even trace, they skipped the state, for real (they did) Range SVR, Trackhawk straight and we willin' to race (willin' to race), for real Fuck the jakes, we gon' go on a chase, keep the foot on gas, like it ain't no brakes (skrrt) We ain't giving no pass, give the chance to take it, we just gon' take it Shoutout your bro, heard he ain't gon' make it Heard niggas hatin' how I gangbang, well, they just gon' hate it We got plenty guns, we got plenty clips We got plenty guns, we got plenty clips We got plenty guns, we got plenty clips We got plenty guns, we got plenty clips We got plenty guns, plenty clips, plenty guns, plenty clips Plenty guns, plenty clips, plenty guns, plenty clips (yeah, yeah) Plenty guns, plenty clips (big blrrd), plenty guns, plenty clips (blrrd) Plenty guns, plenty clips, plenty guns, plenty clips (ayy, ayy, let's go) Blrrd, ayy, ayy, I don't fuck with niggas Plenty Glocks up in this bitch, pop out with plenty killers I swear, we never stop to spin, got relentless killers Got KD with me, my lil' nigga known to finish niggas Bitch, I got plenty pistols, my AR came with a sniper scope Lil' freaky bitch ain't got no license, eat dick while we drive the boat We spin they block, four people shot, now look, don't play with me no more Ayy, I'm a doggy with this Glock, but with this Draco, I'm the G.O.A.T Big blrrd, I get shit out of here Reach for my chain while at the show, get your shit splat in here I'ma leave this bitch just how I came, I leave you flat in here Don't drive Suburbans to my show, ayy, throw that 'Cat in gear (blrrd) Plenty guns, plenty clips (plenty), forty-ones, no thirty-six (uh-uh) Face mob, GTA (face mob) Foreign cars at the Clearport bitch (yeah) Really I'm laughin' (laughin') 'Cause niggas be lackin', laggin' (lack) Far behind, I passed it My shorties be demons, lookin' for action Ask 'em, say the wrong things, they blastin' Take off like NASA, we got a problem, Houston My youngin' with me, got a quick draw like Curry I know he get tired of shootin' (creep down) All that actin', you a created player when you inside the booth (all that actin') Wood on the Drac', it look like a baseball bat, my niggas slidin' through (wood grain) My neck lit, did the same thing for bitch, wrist full of diamonds too (nigga) Millions of racks, this the same thing when I sip, I'm tryna find the juice (nigga) M63, two-door, blue and this MAC, they can't find the roof (boy) Count my money, goddamn, you a bad bitch and she fine as shit (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Writer(s): Subhaan Rahmaan, Rodney Wright, Marcellus Rayvon Register, Horace Bernard Walls Iii, Isaac De Boni, Herbert Randall Wright Iii, Michael Mule, Kaysan Ghasseminejad, Donny Flores, Mark Sweet Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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