Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Big Sean
Vocals
Milan Beker
Keyboards
Rogét Chahayed
Keyboards
Terius Gesteelde-Diamant
Background Vocals
Eryn Allen Kane
Background Vocals
Isaac De Boni
Keyboards
Michael Mule
Keyboards
Jazmine Bailey
Background Vocals
George Lovett
Background Vocals
WilliE
Background Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Teddy Walton
Songwriter
Aaron Booe
Songwriter
Emmanuel Nickerson
Songwriter
Enoch Rich Harris III
Songwriter
Welbon Morris Jr.
Songwriter
Myles Satterfield
Songwriter
Julian Harris
Songwriter
Markus Randle
Songwriter
Eric Bellinger
Songwriter
Jazz Cartier
Songwriter
Rogét Chahayed
Songwriter
Terius Gesteelde-Diamant
Songwriter
Michael Mule
Songwriter
Milan Beker
Songwriter
Isaac De Boni
Songwriter
Sean Michael Anderson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Big Sean
Producer
FNZ
Producer
Mano
Producer
Lil Rich
Producer
OG Webbie
Producer
Milan Beker
Recording Engineer
Myles T
Producer
Teddy Walton
Producer
Aaron Booe
Producer
Rogét Chahayed
Producer
Eryn Allen Kane
Vocal Producer
Julian Vasquez
Recording Engineer
Hayden Duncan
Assistant Recording Engineer
Cyrus "NOIS" Taghipour
Mixing Engineer
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Mixing Engineer
Terius Gesteelde-Diamant
Producer
Nicolas De Porcel
Mastering Engineer
Demitrius Lewis II
Assistant Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
[Intro]
Ooh-ooh, mmm-mm
Ooh-ooh
Whoa, whoa, yeah
[Verse 1]
You a yes man, I'm a rich boy (Throw some Ds on her)
I'm a breast man, I'ma skeet on her, make a mess
And she gon' look up to me, I'm who she proud of
I come from where it's hustlers, pimps, players, and don dadas
[Refrain]
Yeah
Yeah, yeah
[Verse 2]
New shit might get spooky, had to bring the ways back
Stupid lil' bitch wan' reminisce about some shit from way back
When you slackin' on the job, that's when they try and take that
**** really think they cutthroat 'cause they talkin' out they necks
Why don't you get out yo' feelings? Middle fingers to these ****
They wanna see me turn to the villain, either way though, I'ma kill 'em
[Chorus]
When they tried to tell me, "No," I said, "No, motherfucker, yes"
Yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh
Yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh
Yes, tch, yes, huh, yes, huh
When they tried to tell me, "No," I said, "No, motherfucker, yes", huh
Yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh
[Verse 3]
Fuck you mean? My life real GTA
And I need a payment in ETH
Right now the motherfuckin' ETA
And I be the champ, ****, year after year after year
Yeah, I'm goin' three-peat wave
I ain't droppin' no dime, you boys cheapskates
And I'm stickin' to the course, no PGA
Hoes plottin' on me, that's so cliché
Five-star suite, five-star general, yeah, bitch, and I'm goin' AWOL (AWOL)
Done seen more racks than an eight-ball
Don life logo on the jersey like I play ball
Stupid **** been like, "What you been on?"
I said, "A fuckin' rocket, bitch, I'm 'bout to go take off" (Take off)
Bitch, I'ma fly my own PJ, fuck you mean?
Top flight security of the world, Craig
Goofy-ass highs
**** got my name in they mouth 'cause I'm all in their girl head
I stuck to the code, boy, they can't decode me
If they pushin' my buttons, it's code red
Twenty thousand bitches prayin' that we break up
You that **** while you sleepin', I'm him when I wake up
Yeah, holy matrimony, way I stack the cake up
This right here the realest game I probably ever gave up
[Chorus]
When they tried to tell me, "No," I said, "No, motherfucker, yes"
Yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh
Yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh
Yes, tch, yes, huh, yes, huh
When they tried to tell me, "No," I said, "No, motherfucker, yes", huh
Yes, huh, yes, huh, yes, huh
Yes
[Bridge]
Yeah
Whoa, whoa, what the fuck?
What the fuck?
Yes
[Verse 4]
I would rather give y'all my soul, I don't have to sell it
Might take a piss off your rap Mount Rushmore after I scale it
Blue strips, when I do hit the strip, know we fuckin' it up like Elvis
No broke talk, G.O.A.T. talk
Money talkin' to me, like I don't need no motherfuckin' therapist
Brought it right back to the crib like it's nowhere else to go
I was in North Carolina, throwin' up them pyramids with Hov
Confirmation that my ancestors built pyramids fasho
Nothin' happens by coincidence, it's written in the scrolls
Fuckin' wifey types like hoes
I can't even put on my clothes, bitch, I gotta go
Pockets so deep, it implodes
Who keepin' up with the score? I don't plateau
**** back up in that mode
And I don't weigh no pros or no cons 'cause I only know pros
Fuck what you sellin' me
I lay the play down to run this bitch, I think they tellin' me, "No"
Written by: Aaron Booe, Emmanuel Nickerson, Enoch Rich Harris III, Eric Bellinger, Isaac De Boni, Jazz Cartier, Julian Harris, Markus Randle, Michael Mule, Milan Beker, Myles Satterfield, Rogét Chahayed, Sean Anderson, Teddy Walton, Terius Gesteelde-Diamant, Welbon Morris Jr.