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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Channel Tres
Vocals
Roman GianArthur
Drums
Chris McClenney
Keyboards
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Channel Tres
Composer
Roman GianArthur
Composer
Chris McClenney
Composer
Maurice Powell
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Channel Tres
Producer
Roman GianArthur
Producer
Alex Dowidchuk
Engineer
Andrew Keller
Engineer
Ramiro Fernandez-Seoane
Assistant Engineer
Neal Pogue
Mixing Engineer
Mike Bozzi
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
Head rush, head rush
Head rush, head rush
Get out of my head
Head rush, head rush
Head rush, head rush
Head rush, head rush
Head rush, head rush
Wrist, wrist
You better show how you play it, boy
You been workin' these niggas
Play that shit
Ain't nobody tryna weigh you down, nigga
You better play that shit
Show 'em how you lay it down
Play that shit
Show 'em how you get down, nigga
You better play that shit
Ain't nobody tryna weigh you down, boy
Play that shit
Show 'em how you lay it down, nigga
You a Compton nigga
Show them bitches how you get down
Two years could change your life (Bitch, I look good)
You ain't never seen a nigga move this nice (We moved out the hood)
Six O's for a show, up my price
Swaggin' on these niggas, pockets looking thicker
Yeah, I do it bigger, this ain't nothing new
His head is making so much noise
His head is making so much noise
Bought a new house, don't talk to me
The balcony pretty, I could see the city
I got the Whoop on my wrist, now I'm feeling healthy
Skin so smooth, a nigga feeling choosy
You niggas is loud, though, I stay out the way
Homie, if she giving bad dome, I send her in cab home
You making my, making my, making my, making my
Head rush
Head rush
Head rush
Head rush, head rush
Head rush, head rush
Head rush, head rush
Head rush, head rush
You can do anything you want
But when you are tight, you get tired quick
And before you know it, you, you, you, you're done
Never put a artist in a box
They only thought I could do house
I bet they didn't know that at one point
The only house that I knew was a trap
My auntie call it the booking joint
The spot across the street from my granny house
Seen a lot of shit there
It ain't much that I'm scared of
Woah, woah, woah, woah
Let me tell you about this head rush
It's entertainment mixed with drugs
Dealing with loss and with love
I'm glad I'm still here to talk about it
A lot of niggas we done lost
Trauma on my face, damn, I feel a way
At times I feel like it's my fault
Relax
Be calm
Stay focused
And then everything is okay from there on
Definitely
Writer(s): Roman Irvin, Sheldon Young, Christopher Mcclenney, Maurice Powell
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com