Similar Songs
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
MAF Teeski
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
MAF Teeski
Lyrics
Jack Cohen-Mungan
Composer
Timothy Adie
Composer
Alexander Prado
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Daniel Rowland
Mastering Engineer
Thankutimmy
Producer
AudioJacc
Producer
Lyrics
Uh, yeah (Thank you, Timmy boy)
(This shit gon' be crazy, Jacc)
Ain't got no funds, ain't got no guns, then you can't come around (Then you can't come around)
Come here, where you goin'? Boy, you can't run, you know we gun shit down (Come here, come here, you know we gun shit down)
Yeah, you know I got love for all my ****, it's hard to leave 'em out (It's hard to leave 'em out)
He got hit in his leg, chest, and head and now he bleedin' out (Come here)
Ain't callin' for no help, all by myself, bitch, I'ma bang it out
Extended mag whenever I pop outside, my clip be hangin' out
Dirty thirties, all we tote is thirties, my shots ain't runnin' out
Nobody safe (No), we tryna kick your door and gun your mama down (And gun your mama down)
We ain't shootin' up out no car, we bailin' out on feet (Go get 'em)
We pullin' up, six times five, bitch, we like thirty deep (Do the math)
I got a son, got the same heart for my nephews and nieces (Family first)
I got an addiction, bitch, I'm fucked up 'bout the Percs and drank (Damn)
You gon' D-I-E, you play with Scoom, I'll make you take a seat (I'ma make you take a seat)
Got a brand-new bitch, she thick and red, she go by Dominique (She go by)
If I ever catch you dissin' my brother, you gon' feel this heat (The last time)
I'm on my way back home from catchin' a B, now wipe me down with bleach (Wipe me down, wipe me down)
Uh, baby girl, do you squirt or cream?
I'm havin' too much motion, too much paper, too much everything (Bitch, I'm havin')
Better not make me mad when we in public, it's gon' be a scene (Don't make me mad)
He tried to run, we did his ass like Ricky, shout-out to my beam (Ricky)
Yeah, he can't get up (Yeah, he can't get up)
You ain't comin' back, this ain't Call of Duty, bitch, you can hang it up (Hang this bitch the fuck up)
If you ain't got no stripes or got no heart, then you can't hang with us (You a bitch)
Whatever you do, you better play it smart or you'll get turned to dust
You could die, you could die
****, you could die, you could die
Uh, ****, you could die, you could die
Put his ass to bed, sing a lullaby, you could die
Your mama gon' cry whenever you die, you could die
Written by: Alexander Prado, Jack Cohen-Mungan, MAF Teeski, Timothy Adie