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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Yeat
Yeat
Vocals
Summrs
Summrs
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Noah Smith
Noah Smith
Songwriter
Deante Johnson
Deante Johnson
Songwriter
Javier Mercado
Javier Mercado
Songwriter
steven giron
steven giron
Songwriter
Robin Deibert-Patterson
Robin Deibert-Patterson
Songwriter
Thomas Cooper
Thomas Cooper
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Synthetic
Synthetic
Producer
venny
venny
Producer
Anthony Kilhoffer
Anthony Kilhoffer
Mastering Engineer
Noah Smith
Noah Smith
Mixing Engineer
TCtheplaymaker
TCtheplaymaker
Producer
Yung Robin
Yung Robin
Producer

Lyrics

(We gon' bust your head, diamond) (Yeah, what else? Swerve) (What else? Diamond, ooh, Robin) Bentley (whoo), truck (diamond, whoo, diamond) Diamonds, uh, sun (whoo), (diamond) In the night, and we demons, yeah we lurk (whoo-ooh) In the day, and you broke, go to work (whoo-ooh, ah) Diamond (go to work, go to work), diamond Go to work (go to work), yeah, 'cause you broke Go, go to work (go to work), yeah, 'cause you broke, yeah-yeah Go to work, go to work, you a joke Uh, yeah, I need nine figures Chop they hand, chop off all they fingers (yeah) Yeah, go 'head be a meme, they gon' forget about you, yeah I'm the real king Yeat, you gon' stick, go get up out here Yeah, swerve, swerve, yeah, we gon' get up out here Swerve, swerve, I take the Lamb' out of here Go 'head, bust your head, go 'head, give me head Go 'head, bust your diamonds, you can get like me Go 'head, bust your style up, go 'head, steal my jeans Go 'head, get your shot up like a spring Ha, I got these bands, yeah, diamonds on my team Ha, I got these bands, yeah, they can't fuck with me, yeah (Ha) might hit your ass with a fucking dart (ha) Hop out the mo'fuckin' truck and make 'em hear the spark, yeah Beat her cat from the back, I'm loving this bitch arch, yeah, huh Replace her heart, I bought this lil' bitch Chrome Hearts I'm stuffing the money in my pocket (what?), get too close, I pop it Toot up the Maybach truck, this bitch got hydraulics I still rock Alyx with the buckle, take off my belt and whop 'em Or I might fry your ass on that pan and cook ya Tryna catch his ass at the show, okay, we book 'em (okay) Guns hot like the Suns, D-Book 'em All of my niggas is crooked (whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa) Get his ass whacked for that looking (whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa) Turn 'em to pack like a Russian (whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa) Stand over you then I bust ya (whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa) (We gon' bust your head, diamond, we gon' bust your head) (Yeah, what else? Robin, Double B, bird business shit, nigga) (What else? Diamond) Bentley (whoo), truck (diamond, whoo, diamond), diamonds, uh, sun (whoo) (diamond) In the night, and we demons, yeah, we lurk (whoo-ooh) In the day, and you broke, go to work (whoo-ooh, ah) Diamond (go to work, go to work), diamond Go to work (go to work), yeah, 'cause you broke Go, go to work (go to work), yeah, 'cause you broke, yeah-yeah Go to work, go to work, you a joke Uh, yeah, I need nine figures Chop they hand, chop off all they fingers (yeah) Yeah, go 'head, be a meme, they gon' forget about you, yeah I'm the real king Yeat, you gon' stick, go get about you Yeah, swerve, swerve, yeah, we gon' get about you Swerve, swerve, I take the Lamb' out of here Go 'head, bust your head, go 'head, give me head Go 'head, bust your diamonds, you can get like me Go 'head, bust your style, go 'head, steal my jeans Go 'head, get your shot up like a spring Ha, I got these bands, yeah, diamonds on my team Ha, I got these bands, yeah, they can't fuck with me, yeah
Writer(s): Javier Mercado, Steven Giron, Noah Smith, Deante Adam Johnson, Robin Deibert-patterson, Thomas Cooper Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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