Listen to STUPID (WITH LIL YACHTY & BABYFACE RAY) by YG

STUPID (WITH LIL YACHTY & BABYFACE RAY)

YG

Hip-Hop/Rap

Apple Music Note

OVERVIEW

LYRICS

Music Video

YG - STUPID (WITH LIL YACHTY & BABYFACE RAY) [Official Music Video]

Watch YG - STUPID (WITH LIL YACHTY & BABYFACE RAY) [Official Music Video] on YouTube

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS

YG

Vocals

Lil Yachty

Vocals

Babyface Ray

Vocals

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

Keenon Jackson

Lyrics

Marcellus Rayvon Register

Marcellus Rayvon Register

Lyrics

Miles Parks McCollum

Miles Parks McCollum

Lyrics

Dijon McFarlane

Dijon McFarlane

Composer

Kameron Ulysses Jackson

Kameron Ulysses Jackson

Composer

Randy Holmes

Composer

Benjamin Falik

Composer

Michael Crooms

Composer

Solomon Anderson

Solomon Anderson

Composer

Rodney Brown Jr.

Rodney Brown Jr.

Composer

Michael Wayne Nwankwo

Michael Wayne Nwankwo

Composer

Warren Mathis

Composer

PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING

Cyrus "NOIS" Taghipour

Cyrus "NOIS" Taghipour

Mixing Engineer

Derek "MixedByAli" Ali

Derek "MixedByAli" Ali

Mixing Engineer

Brandon Blatz

Assistant Mixing Engineer

Nicolas De Porcel

Nicolas De Porcel

Mastering Engineer

Demitrius Lewis II

Demitrius Lewis II

Assistant Mastering Engineer

Mustard

Producer

Bandz

Producer

JULiA LEWiS

Producer

Patrik Ehrenblad Plummer

Patrik Ehrenblad Plummer

Recording Engineer

Kam Jackson

Producer

Lyrics

[Intro]

Mustard on the beat, ho

[Verse 1]

Oh, damn, y'all done fucked up

This beat hittin' like Bruce Lee with the nunchucks

Before the court room judge us

Please, the wrong way, don't rub us

Fuck, yeah, when it's beef, I eat cow

You ain't got chicken, but catchin' Zs, sleep how? (Sleep how?)

**** know what I be 'bout

Stop playin', I'll knock a **** clean out

Yeah, I got bitches

Ugly ****, only got 'em 'cause my riches

I done made it out the trenches

I believe I'm him, I'm religious

I couldn't see me without a check (Without a check)

Me without a check, I'm a wreck

Penitentiary, chances, took him to the neck (To the neck)

The money feel better than sex, oh

[Chorus]

Yeah, let's get to it

If crime pays, I'ma do it

Remember them days I was slidin' in the Buick

Now I'm up, goin' stupid, stupid

I just took a model off my checklist, stupid

I just put a X on my ex-bitch, stupid

I'm the type to take back the necklace, stupid

Made it off the block like Tetris

[Verse 2]

Aye, **** be the loudest with no fuckin' money (Skee)

I be blowin' bitches backs off two packs of— (Wah)

How you send your boys to war with no ammunition?

Yeah, you pulled up Rolls-Royce, but it's standard edition (Wah)

Found out where you hid this shit like a bad magician

Dissing us the quickest way to lose existence

She wanna roll with the bad boys like Isiah's Pistons

My dawg ain't popped nary Perc', but his index itchin' (Brr)

He was quick with the TEC like a paid-off ref

Tint on the matte coupe got me hard on X (Yeah)

Free Jeff, we ain't spoke since before he left

Shit got hard, they turned left, **** know it ain't right (Yeah)

I'm with Ju, dropped a six in the cranberry Sprite (Yeah)

Geekin', I glide through the lane like a well-made kite (Beep)

On a mailman line, trying to track my pints

Bitch, I go out with a fight, everything on sight

[Chorus]

Yeah, let's get to it

If crime pays, I'ma do it

Remember them days I was slidin' in the Buick

Now I'm up, goin' stupid, stupid

I just took a model off my checklist, stupid

I just put a X on my ex-bitch, stupid

I'm the type to take back the necklace, stupid

Made it off the block like Tetris

[Verse 3]

Man, you **** got me fucked up

'Fore I sell my soul for this shit, I'll sell drugs

Yeah, pussy **** ain't got no love

How is **** sleep on the mob? Must be poured up

Ha, you ain't never had to show up

Baby mama callin' child support 'cause I'm goin' dumb

Yeah, out in Bompton 'cause I know the thugs

Louboutin cross trainers like I bang Blood

I just scratched a baddie off my checklist, bitch

Blew your album budget on my necklace, bitch

**** love frontin', "Face is not that rich"

Tell that to the thotties when I show 'em my crib

Real **** do real things

Real numbers, real fans, ain't a thing change

Yeah, top down in the fast lane

Hands up, thanking God that the bag came, bitch

[Chorus]

Yeah, let's get to it

If crime pays, I'ma do it

Remember them days I was slidin' in the Buick

Now I'm up, goin' stupid, stupid

I just took a model off my checklist, stupid

I just put a X on my ex-bitch, stupid

I'm the type to take back the necklace, stupid

Made it off the block like Tetris

Written by: Benjamin Falik, Dijon McFarlane, Kameron Ulysses Jackson, Keenon Jackson, Marcellus Rayvon Register, Michael Crooms, Michael Wayne Nwankwo, Miles Parks McCollum, Randy Holmes, Rodney Jerome Brown Jr., Solomon Anderson, Warren Mathis

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