Featured In
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Childish Gambino
Performer
Donald Glover
Vocals
Kurtis Mckenzie
Drums
Taneka Samone
Choir
Taylor Milton
Choir
Claudia Cunningham
Choir
Chelsea West
Choir
Bri Jolie
Choir
Vanessa Wood
Choir
Tickwanya Jones
Choir
Denise Stoudmire
Choir
Elizabeth Sis Komba
Choir
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Donald Glover
Composer
Scott M. Carter
Composer
Vanessa D. Wood
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Childish Gambino
Producer
Donald Glover
Producer
Triangle Park
Producer
Ludwig Göransson
Producer
Riley Mackin
Recording Engineer
Brittney Orinda
Recording Engineer
Stuart White
Mixing Engineer
Matheus Braz
Assistant Engineer
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
[Chorus]
Dat's my brother, don't you know it?
I stuck around like Yoshinoya
Stone Mountain, Redan, Dekalb, Sequoyah
Dis my life, I must enjoy it
Dis my life, they bussin' for it
We don't hold back, we must move forward
Stay where you at, you supposed to, boy
**** is fake, I won't ignore it
[Verse 1]
I put your boy in his seat
You got your biz in the streets
I wash my hands when I eat
I never handled a key
I don't know no one BD
But they dependent on me
**** don't know where I'm at
I found your house on a app
People around you ain't slat
They plottin' hard when you slack
They got a gun in your back
This who you trust when you sleepin' at night
I'm in the mirror, I see what I like
It is what it is, I'm right when I'm right
Fuck with my kids, you fuck with your life
You fuckin' these hoes, I'm fuckin' my wife
AK not silent like knife
Think he won't do it, I might
I gotta do what I like, I gotta
[Chorus]
Dat's my brother, don't you know it?
Soupe à l'oignon from Yoshinoya
Stone Mountain, Redan, Dekalb, Sequoyah
Dis my life, I must enjoy it
Dis my life, they bussin' for it
We don't hold back, we must move forward
Stay where you at, you supposed to, boy
**** is fake, I won't ign—
[Verse 2]
This is a code red for old heads who never liked my short shorts and PRO-Keds
Been a minute since he had to fit it on a notepad
I was busy buildin' up the life that **** don't have
Told me that the money make you lonely, it ain't so bad
**** jokes is so dad, but haven't seen they son in a month
Sold some Apple stock to buy a farm, I needed to stunt
I told 'em take the backend points, he wanted the front
Now his career's in a blunt
These rappers cosplay, the industry Comic-Con, the industry evil people, me and fam got a trauma bond
Drive like the Autobahn
Integrity whore, say what I mean, apologize if I didn't, or clarify if it's written in stone
Freak it and leave it alone, give it time, let the truth come to light
Let 'em catch up, **** peepin' like, "Damn, he was right"
Rather have my foot on they neck than they hand on a mic
Rather die a good man with a bad wife
These **** almost fifty, and they dressin' like a hype beast
Used to get the peach milkshake and add the eight piece
White boy throwin' dirt on my name for the think piece
Checks off, death, murder, and pain leave you empty
I curse you with that knowledge, put they hands on a woman for the clout but said I'm wildin'
Death before dishonor, on my mom like Keke Palmer
I'm allergic to the drama, you saw me and Tyler
I'm allergic to this rap shit
Made a song but spent more time writin' the caption
I'm an actor, you can put that on set, I'm about that action
My tweets all lowercase, I saw these **** cappin'
My homegirl said you a stalker, so we ain't dappin', I ain't see you, man, what happened?
Man, the blog era over, takin' all our stars
My favorite spot was 'bout to close, so I made some calls
Bitch **** eat a dick and doggy bag the balls
Written by: Avery Earls, Chauncey Hollis, DONALD MCKINLEY GLOVER II, Donald Glover, Donald Meadows, Kurtis Mckenzie, Ludwig Göransson, Mathangi Arulpragasam, Scott M. Carter, Vanessa D. Wood