Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Future
Future
Vocals
Trippie Redd
Trippie Redd
Vocals
Doe Boy
Doe Boy
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Christopher Thomas Barnett
Christopher Thomas Barnett
Composer
Darrell Jackson
Darrell Jackson
Composer
Larrance Dopson
Larrance Dopson
Composer
Michael Lamar White II
Michael Lamar White II
Lyrics
Nayvadius Wilburn
Nayvadius Wilburn
Lyrics
Isam Mostafa
Isam Mostafa
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Igor Mamet
Igor Mamet
Mixing Engineer
CBMix
CBMix
Producer
Chop Squad DJ
Chop Squad DJ
Producer
Rance1500
Rance1500
Producer

Lyrics

[Intro]
(CB on the beat)
[Instrumental]
Huh?
Yeah, huh
Yeah
Yeah
[Chorus]
We pull up in your city, man, like where that mini-man?
Double cups and double semis, man, hop out the minivan
And my bitches high saddity, man, don't show no pity, man
We got 30s, we got 50s, man, come right and get me, man
And them hollows hit your chinny-chin, I'm like the Crimson Chin
Fuck your bitch, feel like a kid again, I'm with the business, kid
Fuck with me and then go missing, kid, I'm from the trenches, kid
Boy, just face it, you diminished, kid, you fuckin' finished, kid (Yeah)
[Verse 1]
Take a walk, lil' bitch, we steppin' (Yeah)
Fuck that talkin', bitch, we wreckin' (Woo)
Spit on your coffin, send you to hell
You play with my name, I play with these weapons (Bitch, bitch)
You think it's a game, you must got a death wish (Death wish)
Bah, now that boy headless (Headless, bah)
Pull up and wet shit (Ah)
It was all your inception (Woo)
It was all just a message (Yeah)
Beat up the block, beat up the block (Bitch)
Aim at his top, feel the heat from the Glock (Blaow)
Bitch, I'm 800, I keep me a mop
1400/800, you reppin' or not? (Not)
Woo, bitch, we too hot (Hot), woo, straight to the top (Top)
Play with the gang, you end up on Fox (Fox News)
[Chorus]
We pull up in your city, man, like where that mini-man?
Double cups and double semis, man, hop out the minivan
And my bitches high saddity, man, don't show no pity, man
We got 30s, we got 50s, man, come right and get me, man
And them hollows hit your chinny-chin, I'm like the Crimson Chin
Fuck your bitch, feel like a kid again, I'm with the business, kid
Fuck with me and then go missing, kid, I'm from the trenches, kid
Boy, just face it, you diminished, kid, you fuckin' finished, kid
[Verse 2]
All this cash, it's gon' make a **** surf, Hawaii (Surf)
I got a bad bitch at the crib, we like Whitney and Bobby (I got a bad bitch)
I get active on the pill, I get active without it (Active)
Paid three thousand for a seal, now I got drank in my body (Paid three thousand for a seal)
Oh yeah, just some drugs, spent two hundred bands (Spent two hundred)
All these diamond rings gave a **** cold hands (Oh yeah)
Drankin' codeine, feel like I'm on Xans (Drankin')
Said fuck tomorrow, started drinkin' seals up out the can (Pluto)
**** sell dope on my block, **** murder, **** scam
I'm a rich **** fuckin' thot hoes on cam
Just for thinkin' she the one, I'ma dog her out and fuck her friend
I'ma knock the bitch out, Freebandz (Pluto)
[Chorus]
We pull up in your city, man, like where that mini-man? (Yeah)
Double cups and double semis, man, hop out the minivan (Brrt)
And my bitches high saddity, man, don't show no pity, man (No, no)
We got 30s, we got 50s, man, come right and get me, man (Grrt)
And them hollows hit your chinny-chin, I'm like the Crimson Chin (Yeah)
Fuck your bitch, feel like a kid again, I'm with the business, kid (Doe Beezy)
Fuck with me and then go missing, kid, I'm from the trenches, kid (Doe Beezy)
Boy, just face it, you diminished, kid, you fuckin' finished, kid (Doe Beezy, oh, really?)
[Verse 3]
Big Doe Beezy got that 50, kid, don't play with Trippie, kid (Doe Beezy)
All that rappin' shit, I really live, this shit I really did (That's facts)
Used to slide in minivans, ho, now it's a Bentley, kid (Skrrt)
Rapper play, his ass get lit up, give no fuck how lit he his (You think I'm playin'?)
Flex my wrist and make your bitch mine, play, my clique ride (Gang, gang)
RBMG ain't gon' let shit slide, better not diss mine (Fool)
Pussy boy, I got my stick on me, why your stick hidin'? (Fool)
Feel no snitches, bitch, I'm like 5'6", chopper 6'9" (Oh, really?)
[Chorus]
We pull up in your city, man, like where that mini-man?
Double cups and double semis, man, hop out the minivan
And my bitches high saddity, man, don't show no pity, man
We got 30s, we got 50s, man, come right and get me, man
And them hollows hit your chinny-chin, I'm like the Crimson Chin
Fuck your bitch, feel like a kid again, I'm with the business, kid
Fuck with me and then go missing, kid, I'm from the trenches, kid
Boy, just face it, you diminished, kid, you fuckin' finished, kid
[Outro]
(CB on the beat)
Written by: Christopher Durwood Thomas, Christopher Thomas Barnett, Cotrell Dennard, Darrell Jackson, Isam Mostafa, Larrance Dopson, Michael Lamar White II, Nayvadius Wilburn
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