Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Blxst
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Matthew Burdette
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Blxst
Producer
Lance Powell
Mixing Engineer
Chris Ulrich
Engineer
James Musshorn
Engineer
Noah Rodriguez
Assistant Engineer
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
[Chorus]
Okay, how many bad biddies wanna act up?
Finna make a move, I'ma ask once
How many can I fit inside a black truck?
Ain't enough room, we can lap up
How many broke **** tryna act tough?
I'on know, if I was broke, I'd be mad too
They been begging me to do it, I'd be glad to
Yeah, yeah, aye
[Verse 1]
Okay, how many more slaps can I make?
I'm twenty seconds in, it's a plaque on the way
Okay, how many real **** can relate?
Made it out the bottom like a trap 808
I took it international and kept that shit L.A.
Them **** not as passionate, I put that on my aye
The real people champ, yeah, I'm stamped heavyweight
Pull up in something pretty, forgot I was ever late
I'm right back to it, ice pack stupid
Bitch, them M's doubled up, Maybach Music
While you was cuddled up, I was still on pace to it
I was tryna figure how the fuck I put a face to it
I bet I touchdown if I put a play to it
Tryna show the kids something, coming up when they do it
Yeah, I'm done talking, I'ma let the bass do it
[Chorus]
Okay, how many bad biddies wanna act up?
Finna make a move, I'ma ask once
How many can I fit inside a black truck?
Ain't enough room, we can lap up
How many broke **** tryna act tough?
I'on know, if I was broke, I'd be mad too
They been begging me to do it, I'd be glad to
Yeah, yeah, aye
[Verse 2]
Okay, ain't shit changed but the Rollie went plain
Family maintained and the homies still gang
They like, "What you finna do with all this loose change?"
Might buy a lil' yachty, name the boat Usain
I'm whipping that big body, let that BBL swang
She keep calling me papi like she can't pronounce my name
The X got her confused, she want me to explain
The sooner that you choose, sooner we can part ways
A lot of dark days, looking at the stars gazing
Now we pop out, pull up and park crazy
Never thought I would make it this far, baby
That pressure with it like potato, it's all gravy
Aye, how you make it look this good?
You know it's all gas like I packed it in a Wood
They gon' slap it in the whip, they gon' slap it in the hood
Yeah, this ain't that, don't get it misunderstood
[Chorus]
Okay, how many bad biddies wanna act up?
Finna make a move, I'ma ask once
How many can I fit inside a black truck?
Ain't enough room, we can lap up
How many broke **** tryna act tough?
I'on know, if I was broke, I'd be mad too
They been begging me to do it, I'd be glad to
Yeah, yeah, aye
Written by: Matthew Burdette
