Similar Songs
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
YoungBoy Never Broke Again
Vocals
cheese
Performer
Indiagotthembeats
Performer
K4
Performer
Maurice "Ke'Noe" Jordan
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Maurice "Ke'Noe" Jordan
Songwriter
India Arie Williams
Songwriter
Kayshaun Mclean
Songwriter
Kentrell Gaulden
Songwriter
Jason Goldberg
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
YoungBoy Never Broke Again
Recording Engineer
Indiagotthembeats
Producer
K4
Producer
Maurice "Ke'Noe" Jordan
Producer
Jason Goldberg
Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
Mommy, India got them beats
K4ProducedIt
Ten ain't got no mind, ****, he don't pick and choose
Dee gon' spray the car from front to back to get rid of you
Lil' bro known to keep a drum inside his gat and he like switch on tools
Know they trap two different cars right back to back
Yeah, yeah
Bitch, go tell 'em, "Free Lil Meechy Baby out that fed' block"
Go tell 'em lil' cuz still makin' them hitters get busy with them red dots
Go tell 'em we upped the score, got two new opps, one caught a headshot
I know he proud right now 'bout how he saw I beat the feds, huh?
Stop now, pow-pow, then sped off
I'm with that shit, we tear it down
Ol' bitch-ass ****, boy, you gon' fuck around and get your body found
Free my daddy, I wanna face my problems like my mama
We all with that static, lil' bro, he pop Addies, not no traumas
Deal with problems, think I'm traumatized, get chastised, he fumble
Drive, pull up fast, and then jump right on side, pull your pants up, you see my grandma, bitch
Uh-uh, mmm, he's a motherfuckin' animal
He come through like a cannon ball
His gun gon' straight demolish you, it damage you, he get dissolved
Shoot, let the AR off with monkey nuts, problem solved
Ten ain't got no mind, ****, he don't pick and choose
Dee gon' spray the car from front to back to get rid of you
Lil' bro known to keep a drum inside his gat and he like switch on tools
Know they trap two different cars right back to back
Yeah, yeah
Shoot the whole club up, don't cost us nothin', you seen in there
Interstate, from the back, tear the trunk up, bitch, you better not have no kids in there
I'm a millionaire, don't throw our position, ****, then say we ain't pick 'em fair
****, fuck that, know he dead, we ain't even carin', should've caught your ass in there
Fly a Crip bitch out just for to let her do my hair
You wanna try me, I play that fair, bitch, truth or dare (Bitch, truth or let's go, uh)
Know I'm bangin' red like Tony Starks, it's no perhaps, you disrespect, we slump you on your project stairs
It's all I hear, "They don't like you, Top," I'm like, "Man, who are you? Blah-blah"
You gon hear, "Pop, pop," approach me with that rah-rah, bitch
They know I don't do no stuntin'
I just wanna end it, fuck that tension, I'm gon' throw out money
They don't do no actin', I get active, I'm on meds, up on 'em
Run up on that bitch clappin', once we smash 'em, rip off 'em straight laughin' like that shit be funny
Ten ain't got no mind, ****, he don't pick and choose
I'll slime allegiance, ****, to the green flag
Dee gon' spray the car from front to back to get rid of you
Of the United States, believe that, of America, bitch
Lil' bro known to keep a drum inside his gat and he like switch on tools
You better stay on your pivot, ****
Know they trap two different cars right back to back
Believe it
Yeah, yeah
We gon' split you
Hey, is Kentrell in there?
Written by: India Arie Williams, Jason "Cheese" Goldberg, Kayshaun Mclean, Kentrell Gaulden, Maurice "Ke'Noe" Jordan