Featured In
Top Songs By Rob49
Similar Songs
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Rob49
Vocals
G Herbo
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Robert L. Jamison IV
Songwriter
Edward Theodore Riley Jr
Songwriter
Moritz Busch
Songwriter
Luiz J. Diaz
Songwriter
Herbert R Wright
Songwriter
Robert Coleman Thomas
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Robb2b
Producer
Tash
Producer
Shortyyk
Producer
Looisey
Producer
Eddie Hernandez
Mixing Engineer
Joshua “Za” Zayas
Recording Engineer
Peter A. Barker
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Yeah, here we go again
Life was all fat mama house so she couldn't see my vision
Go ask lil' bro, I broke the law, I flew pounds in my city
I'm in the Lamb' truck gettin' my dick sucked
Light skin, dark skin, I want both of 'em
[Verse 2]
Let me know some
Two hoes slid on me, but I want three, I need a foursome
I already got a ho, I don't want no ho talkin' 'bout she wholesome
I don't need no more clout, ho, watch your mouth, always tryna post some
Keep my glock on me, I hop out front seat, tryna smoke some
Keep the questions, I don't know nothin'
Glizzy don't need a beam, but like a green dot, bitch, you know it's comin'
Soon as we leave his team
We just gon' flee the scene
My shooters score with ease
We don't even need a screen
[Verse 3]
Yeah, my shooter score with ease
Soon as he see 'em he squeeze
Run my town in a matte black truck with 5% tent with skis on
I be trying to uh, get in her pants, get in the end zone
I be trying to uh, trap all day like a trap star
On my grind but I don't skate
Ask me shit, I plead the fifth
Get a big check on the first
Yeah I love, but I don't need her
I was down bad but I turnt up quick, got that win again
Losses turned to lessons, I'm the truth, they can't do this shit
And I'm scheming hard, **** know I'm a problem
I be in the projects, bro serve Oxycodone
He be playing with that white shit like he serving Coca Cola
I be, I be, I be keepin' my pistol like I'm 'posed to
[Verse 4]
I be quick to get on a **** ass like he owe some
Broski riding Jag, do the dash like he stole some
We don't even pull up Jags, ridin' new ones like the old ones
Fuckin' up that sack, buying platinum like it's golden
I be, I be quick to slut a bitch, she don't mean nun
Then get drunk and text her phone quick like I need some
You can't talk like you love these hoes, I don't either
Feed her dick and then she call me piss I won't feed her
[Outro]
She don't even trip
On my neck a kit
On my right a brick
In my left a switch
I make bitches lit
So I left her lit
I got with her rich
So I left her rich
Written by: Edward Theodore Riley Jr, Herbert R Wright, Luiz J. Diaz, Moritz Busch, Robert L. Jamison IV, Robert Thomas