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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Skilla Baby
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Trevon Gardner
Songwriter
Ian Lewis
Songwriter
Ben Diehl
Songwriter
Walter "Bunny" Sigler
Songwriter
Ronald Tyson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Ben Billions
Producer
Schife Karbeen
Producer
Thomas “Tillie” Mann
Mixing Engineer
Trajuan “Mixedbytra” Jackson
Additional Engineer
Chris Smith
Recording Engineer
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Now I'm like two million up, and that shit still ain't enough
When I go to sleep, I think about them shootin' up my truck
But I'm still out here doin' me, I just don't give a fuck
My lil' cousins love me, I can't let them see me givin' up
Always got good grades in school, still played the fool
When them **** made they move, you know me, I played it cool
**** playin' both sides, I don't ever make 'em choose
All these trophies on my neck, they could never say I lose, huh
[Chorus]
Dope fein, coke, lean (Fein, lean)
Lil' **** from the hood gettin' smoked at fifteen
All they know is tote straps, they ain't gettin no cheese
I'm rich as fuck, **** wanna lift me up, I still won't leave
I'm strapped, I won't leave the hood, I think I'm clapped (Clapped)
Them boys shot at us, we went got back (Back)
Every time we spin somebody got tapped (Tapped)
My lil' **** thirteen and got hats (Hats)
[Bridge]
Nah, for real
That's how this shit goes
Real chasers
[Verse 2]
Every time I leave the house somebody tryin' to kill me
Old **** from the hood tryna Dr. Phil me
I'm on my tenth hood home, I'm 'bout to cop a building
If you ain't never been through shit, you not gonna feel me
I done sold dope, been shot and shot at
I been locked up, got got and got back
I done stood in the kitchen and watched my brother lock crack
I done stayed in the trap watched the fiends cop packs
[Chorus]
Dope fein, coke, lean (Fein, lean)
Lil' **** from the hood gettin' smoked at fifteen
All they know is tote straps, they ain't gettin no cheese
I'm rich as fuck, **** wanna lift me up, I still won't leave
I'm strapped, I won't leave the hood, I think I'm clapped (Strapped, clapped)
Them boys shot at us, we went got back (Back)
Every time we spin somebody got tapped (Tapped)
My lil' **** thirteen and got hats (Hats)
Written by: Ben Diehl, Ian Lewis, Ronald Tyson, Trevon Gardner, Walter "Bunny" Sigler