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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Tyga
Tyga
Vocals
Lil Tjay
Lil Tjay
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Michael Ray Stevenson
Michael Ray Stevenson
Songwriter
John Sammis
John Sammis
Songwriter
Tione Merritt
Tione Merritt
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
DTP
DTP
Producer
Jess Jackson
Jess Jackson
Mastering Engineer
Samantha Henry
Samantha Henry
Recording Engineer
Christian "CQ" Quinonez
Christian "CQ" Quinonez
Recording Engineer
Dillon Brophy
Dillon Brophy
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Kingsley the Corgi
Kingsley the Corgi
Assistant Recording Engineer

Lyrics

I just walked in, in the spot with my whodie Drinkin' champagne over here, not a 40 Shawty wanna come in my section 'cause she know me Now she all up in my ear, tellin' me she lonely Go 'head and do that thing for me Might just go 'head and throw 40 Readin' all your signs like a story Gotta go and tell your man that you sorry Yeah, I know, you a ten, girl, sittin' in the Porsche seats (oh) Yeah I know, put your ass in the floor seats (oh) Yeah I know, girl, you cold like the North East (cold) On an island in the house, got a whole beach (cold) Gettin' bags, yeah, the money gettin' no sleep Gotta keep you around for a long time Like an OG, baby, please I just walked in, in the spot with my whodie Drinkin' champagne over here, not a 40 Shawty wanna come in my section 'cause she know me Now she all up in my ear, tellin' me she lonely Go 'head and do that thing for me Might just go 'head and throw 40 Readin' all your signs like a story Gotta go and tell your man that you sorry Go tell him Go tell him, go tell him, go tell him (that you sorry) Go tell him Go tell him, go tell him, go tell him (that you sorry) Go tell him that you sorry, yeah Got trust issues, probably why I move shady I ain't got no problems with you, baby I be goin' crazy, in the stu' daily Cops tryna knock opp, niggas, tryna fade me Police better not try to pull me, l be in some fast shit Got time on my head, I can never love no fast bitch Got a glass wrist, money to my pockets, mad thick Gotta guess they wanna see me fold, I can't crash it VVS just drippin' in the gold, poppin' magic I just got four milli', should I blow? Should I stack it? I'ma lit this shit up 'til I'm old or in a casket I'm that nigga, probably why your ho let me slap it I'm turnt up in this spot, yeah, we lit Told him bring more bottles, e'rybody gotta sip We gon' go up tonight Yeah, I'ma show you the light, ah, ah I just walked in, in the spot with my whodie Drinkin' champagne over here, not a 40 Shawty wanna come in my section 'cause she know me Now she all up in my ear, tellin' me she lonely Go 'head and do that thing for me Might just go 'head and throw 40 Readin' all your signs like a story Gotta go and tell your man that you sorry Gotta go and tell your man that you sorry Yeah, go and tell that nigga that you sorry Yeah, go tell him, sorry Go tell him, go tell him, go tell him, go tell him Go tell him, go tell him, go tell him, go tell him Go tell him that you
Writer(s): John Sammis, Michael Ray Stevenson, Tione Jayden Merritt Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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