Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Beatdemons
Beatdemons
Performer
Quin NFN
Quin NFN
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Christopher Chris Gomez
Christopher Chris Gomez
Songwriter
Mark Christopher Hardin
Mark Christopher Hardin
Songwriter
Quinlan Sharif McAfee
Quinlan Sharif McAfee
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Beatdemons
Beatdemons
Producer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
That thing glued to me
Beatdemons in yo ear
[Verse 2]
I'm clutching the beyblade the way I let my gun rip
I was just on pissy mattress practicing a front flip
Now I pull my stick up out this pouch I call it fundip
Took a risk and gained a lot, that gamble got me dumb rich
[Verse 3]
Asked her what she's on she said, "Some paper," that make both of us
I came up out that dirty by myself, **** wasn't coaching us
This drank ain't round a clip talking wockesha we can toast it up
I might get a little facial from your bae to help me sober up
The city claim Lil Quin the one, lowkey that shit honoring
And any **** play bound to get his issue I can promise you
I just hit yo chick and now I'm dipping like a condiment
She came to come swallow 'cause the condo look astonishing
Baby K came with some breast to flex, should've did modeling
Ain't just for some neck, she asked for sex I won't acknowledge it
Popped a Percocet just for the stress and woke up vomiting (Damn)
New Balenci runners look like guns I be vibing em
Know we in the fields just like some linemen how we tackle blocks
New Cartier, this 41 double M look like a Apple Watch
Known to sit em down just like a lounge, we out here passing shots
Why you at the crib sitting on your ass, you want a bag or not?
[Verse 4]
I'm clutching the beyblade the way I let my gun rip (Boom Boom)
I was just on pissy mattress practicing a front flip (I was)
Now I pull my stick up out this pouch I call it fundip (Run)
Took a risk and gained a lot, that gamble got me dumb rich (Yeah I did)
I ain't want her cat, she sent racks and it got through to me
I ain't cool with dude, but dude lowkey think he cool with me (We good)
We gon' stick to beefing, boy, you tweaking talkin' bout unity (Boom, boom, boom)
Know we trained to go boy, hate yo hoe 'cause she be choosing me (Hate your bitch)
[Verse 5]
Then go hit the road for that new pack 'cause it got flew to me (It got flew)
**** leave they side when we come slide, it happens usually
We the ones getting pussy **** kick out the community (Pussy)
Whole clique full of steppers, they know all the shooters cool with me
They fucking supporters they said Quincho and them some fan lovers
Ain't no pick or choosers we will serve this to yo grandmother (Damn)
Might go get that switch like a bad kid and make my hand stutter
I ain't gotta move at all, I'll just let them bands touch ya
Come and play with Quin the situation gon' be hideous
Me and bro was outside all summer, Ferb and Phineas
Drop down and we (Pew-Pew-Pew-Boom) and show we serious
This stick will make a **** say, "Ooh-wee" like Bobby Bill (Damn)
[Verse 6]
I'm clutching the beyblade the way I let my gun rip (Boom Boom)
I was just on pissy mattress practicing a front flip (I was)
Now I pull my stick up out this pouch I call it fundip (Run)
Took a risk and gained a lot, that gamble got me dumb rich (Yeah I did)
I ain't want her cat, she sent racks and it got through to me
I ain't cool with dude, but dude lowkey think he cool with me
We gon' stick to beefing, boy, you tweaking talkin' bout unity
Know we trained to go boy, hate yo hoe 'cause she be choosing me
Written by: Christopher Chris Gomez, Mark Christopher Hardin, Mark Christopher Hardin Jr., Quinlan Sharif McAfee
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