Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Chicken P
Chicken P
Vocals
Ajaks
Ajaks
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Rahkeib Smith
Rahkeib Smith
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Ekzakt Precision
Ekzakt Precision
Mixing Engineer
Ajaks
Ajaks
Producer

Lyrics

[Intro]
Ayy (Buss one)
(Ajaks, this a banger)
Ayy
Ayy
Ayy, check me out
Okay, ayy, huh
[Verse 1]
Fifty thousand dollars on me now, who tryna call my bluff?
Ran this shit up all by myself, ain't gotta call for nothin'
Really Rich forever lit, if they ain't rockin' with us, fuck 'em
Chrome Heart denim, baby, you can't find these in the Buckle
Ten milli', I ain't scuffling, you try it, you in trouble
Quit chasin' them hoes, ****, once you try it, you gon' bubble
On stage high like David Ruffin, we in the club pourin' 'Tussin (Drank)
I be done poured a **** rent, but these **** homeless (On my baby)
You say you can cook a brick? Okay, ****, show me
I keep a Kenan Kel-Tec just like Nickelodeon
I'm with a bad-ass bitch, she say she Cambodian
Go tell your drunk-ass uncle I got some paper old as him
(****, been slammin', lil'-ass ****)
Huh, a **** play, we gon' put him down and stand over him
These broke-ass **** salty, out here throwin' sodium
I got a phobia for broke **** out here owin' ****
I was broke, but I had to get up and go show them ****
Cracked a hundred out the strike, damn near blew the motor in it
I'm hittin' the road, she say she goin' with me
It's cool, baby know to play her role, I made her hold the glizzy
LA, New York, Houston, then the O, bitch, I been gettin' busy
I hit Iceman Nick and dropped a forty, bitch, it's gettin' chilly (Cold)
Bae, give me some head, naw, I ain't with all the sentimental
Take me to the source, ain't with all the monkeys in the middle, huh
My **** keep some 'caine on him, he ain't crippled
I got some shit could drop a reindeer in this pistol
I'm pourin' Tris up out the pint, I never pour a little
It's Big Chick, buss a brick, you **** Stuart Little
They love me 'cause I do the most, you **** do a little
A thousand grams done blew the motor, damn near threw the blender (Fuck)
Ten, ten, ten, ten, ten, I'm runnin' through them bitches (We runnin' through this shit)
I heard you **** goin' poor, money through with **** (Money through with them)
Me and bro 'nem stumblin' out Dior, we just blew a chicken
New B-30s cost a G, my left shoe a digit
I got so many bad bitches tellin' me, "Baby, do your big one"
Hmm, ayy, I got so many bad bitches tellin' me, "Baby, do your big one" (Ayy, do your big one)
Ayy, huh, I got so many bad bitches tellin' me, "Baby, do your big one"
Written by: Rahkeib Smith
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