Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Mike Dimes
Mike Dimes
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Michael Goode Jr.
Michael Goode Jr.
Songwriter
Spiff Sinatra
Spiff Sinatra
Songwriter
James Austin Cyr
James Austin Cyr
Songwriter
Benjamin Mcgregor Wilson
Benjamin Mcgregor Wilson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Spiff Sinatra
Spiff Sinatra
Producer
Ben10k
Ben10k
Producer
London Cyr
London Cyr
Producer
Isaiah Brown
Isaiah Brown
Producer
Chris Athens
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

[Intro]
Ah, ah, ah, ooh
Ooh, you ain't, ooh, got nowhere to run
Ah, ah, ah, ooh
Ooh, you ain't, ooh, got nowhere to run
[Verse 1]
They counted me out
Shoutout to mama and papa, I made me a M in the house
I don't think they can get to me now
How it feel to be talk of the town?
Just depend if you family or fan, I don't like it when they kissin' my ass
She suck on dick just because of my dad
She young and give top in the drop
No, you can't park in this lot
Is we fuckin' or not? Do you love me or not?
I had enough of these thots when I found out they was fuckin' for clout
Make me a couple K and then I'm out
If I talk to the bank today, I make 'em drought
Just talked to granny, she said that she proud of me (Said that she proud of me)
Fuck every **** that doubted me (That doubted me)
Two-hundred K just to honor your majesty (Facts)
Gotta make no mistake if you passin' me (Facts)
Put the cam' in my face and they askin' me
"Not to be rude, is that your whip? Are those your guys?" (Huh?)
"You bought that house? Do you tuck your nine?" (Huh?)
"Would you ever trade that just to have this life?"
And I'm like, "Honestly, I don't even give a fuck about these rappers, though" (Fuck 'em)
"And obviously, I don't even give a fuck about these model hoes" ('Cause fuck 'em)
"And pardon me, you don't even know my mama, you don't get to call me bro" (On God)
I don't wanna be cool (Straight up)
Why these **** always tryna be cool? (Straight up)
"What you doin'?" Just mindin' me and you
In my space, can you take a step or two?
I'm tryna make some progression (Hol' up)
But think God tryna teach me some lessons (Straight up)
They show me hate, so we show Smith & Wessons
Nowadays, **** do this for attention, I wish it was money
One time for the folks back home in their duffy
Mike Dimes run it up 'til the gang out the country, hol' up
[Intro]
Ah-ah (Yeah, that's hard, fuck it)
Ah-ah, got nowhere to (Uh)
Ah-ah, ah-ah
Bitch, I go by Mike Dimes
[Verse 2]
Uh, you think you him with all that jewelry on, you flexed up, huh?
All of my hoes faker than silicone, I'm fucked up and I'm knee deep in
Tryna get in my zone, she a two-by-two model chick
IG pics the only thing she on
[Chorus]
Pour a deuce in the Fanta, I'm a real Texas phantom
I got different type of standards, did some things up on the camera, uh
Trench coat, all black, SUV, seven seater
Pimpin' before pleasure, I make shorties take my misdemeanors
[Verse 3]
This style ain't for free, I'm Mike D pushin' with them Billy boys
The city boys, really should call us the fuck-up-our-kidney boys
We skinny, but somehow we only seem to have the biggest toys
Don't list me when you talk about them rappers, they some little boys (Bitch, I go by Mike Dimes)
[Chorus]
Pour a deuce in the Fanta, I'm a real Texas phantom
I got different type of standards, did some things up on the camera, uh
Trench coat, all black, SUV, seven seater
Pimpin' before pleasure, I make shorties take my misdemeanors
[Outro]
That's hard, Spiff
Written by: Benjamin Mcgregor Wilson, Isaiah Brown, James Austin Cyr, Michael Goode Jr., Spiff Sinatra, Sterling White Jr.
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