Similar Songs
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Jace!
Vocals
VonOff1700
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jace Salter
Songwriter
Davon meeks
Songwriter
Artem Raschepkin
Songwriter
Vyacheslav Voevodin
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Hawky
Producer
icyboiii
Producer
Jace!
Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
[Intro]
Go, rrr, go
Rrr, rrr, rrr, aye
Real MurdaWorth shit
Rrr, aye, aye, aye
What say? What say?
Bad bitch, hair done, she finna eat the whole gang up (Aye)
Bitch-ass ****, get your rank up
Uh, lil' ****, get your rank up
Hawky
[Chorus]
Bad bitch, hair done, she finna eat the whole gang up
Up on the score, you better get your rank up, you get some chains, **** start to change up
Pull up button, rrr, baow, baow, baow, baow, baow
She get to shakin' her ass like baow, shoot up that trap, **** start runnin' out (Bitch)
I know some killers, the East, the West, the South, had **** screamin' out, "Ouch"
Don't wanna scratch, hit up that crib, we had them bullets flyin' through the couch
Shake that ass, shawty, better get in your bag, shawty
Oh, you in your bag, shawty, he in his bag hardly (Bitch)
[Verse 1]
Puttin' up points, Harden, uppin' that score, sparked 'em
She said I'm broke, pardon, Cujo on fire, can't guard him (Guard him)
Take a Perc' 5 in the mornin', she wanna fuck 'cause she horny
Pull up, rrr, baow, switch the crowd, we had everybody 'round gettin' down
Free Lil 30, free Cyraq, them **** there, they'll get on your crown
Smokin' on dope, shit so loud, I can't really even hear no sounds
Fuck all the autotune, I'll let the accent show just to put on for the town
He try to run, he don't know where that backstreet go, we get to lettin' off rounds
[Refrain]
Rounds, **** (Aye)
Rounds, aye, rounds, rounds, rounds
Rounds, **** (Rrr, rrr)
Rounds, rounds, rounds, rounds (Rrr)
She wanna fuck for a while (Aye)
I'm finna give the bitch rounds
Rounds, aye, rounds, aye
Rounds, ****, rounds (Damn)
[Verse 2]
Baow, baow, baow, baow, baow, I had to switch up the crowd
Why the fuck is you raisin' your voice? Up the Drac' on his ass 'cause the **** was gettin' too loud
I only be slidin' with steppers, don't get in this car if ain't never put nothin' down
He ain't have his gun, he thought it was safe where he at, we done caught his dumb ass out of bounds
You say it went down and Vonno ain't blow his gun, be for real, how the fuck do that sound?
Spot us a vic' and spin right back around, bounce out the V, leave his face on the ground
Layin' in a pool full of blood with his ass in the air, that's how the **** was found
10 milli' Glock so big, you don't wanna feel it, this bitch'll knock down a cow
Free Famous, he finna take it to trial, snitchin', that's some shit we don't allow
Pop out, ****, I'm spinnin' right now, the four of the Tris got me high as a cloud
Don't think we killed him, he stuck in denial, I'm livin' my life like a battle royale
Make a **** eat bullets like Golden Corral, they know when I bounce I'm gon' get wild
[Chorus]
Bad bitch, hair done, she finna eat the whole gang up
Up on the score, you better get your rank up, you get some chains, **** start to change up
Pull up button, rrr, baow, baow, baow, baow, baow
She get to shakin' her ass like baow, shoot up that trap, **** start runnin' out (Bitch)
I know some killers, the East, the West, the South, had **** screamin' out, "Ouch"
Don't wanna scratch, hit up that crib, we had them bullets flyin' through the couch
Shake that ass, shawty, better get in your bag, shawty
Oh, you in your bag, shawty, he in his bag hardly (Bitch)
Written by: Artem Raschepkin, Davon meeks, Jace Salter, Vyacheslav Voevodin