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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Fetty P Franklin
Fetty P Franklin
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Fetty P Franklin
Fetty P Franklin
Songwriter
Ace The Beat God
Ace The Beat God
Arranger
Nyce
Nyce
Arranger

Lyrics

(Mmm, mmm, you ain't)
(You ain't supposed to do it)
Woah, woah, woah, woah; woah
What is you- I know you ain't in this mutha fucka
(You ain't supposed to do it)
Somebody gon' fuck around and..
(You ain't supposed to do it)
Listen, trust; come on
(You ain't supposed to do it)
Jimmy kept a plug (Oh?)
Cause Jimmy was a hustla’ (Yhea)
But Jimmy came from pistols
Cause Jimmy wasn’t a busta’ (No)
See Jimmy fuck with Johnny and he treat him like a brother
(Brother)
But Johnny was a super duper player hatin’ sucka (Sucka)
See back in middle school? (Log)
Jimmy had the hoes (Yes)
And Johnny had to wear Jimmy had hand me down clothes (For real?)
See Johnny living with his granny so he kinda po’ (Poor)
Plus he gotta share his room and his bed wit’ a roach (Damn)
But Jimmy family different, his momma went to prison (Okay)
His daddy gave him game on how to whip and how to blend it (For real?)
And Jimmy told Johnny everything his daddy mentioned (Who?)
He also told him "Jimmy there ain’t no friends in this business"
First they started selling weed, then they started selling pills
Johnny went and got a car, Jimmy went and got a crib (Cooked)
Johnny couldn’t save his money, Jimmy workin with a big (Voodoo)
Johnny couldn’t buy a eight ball, but Johnny in a Benz (Facts)
Johnny ridin leather seats, on some Forgiato rims *Skirt*
But Jimmy don’t mind lookin out for his friends
So Johnny? He went to Jimmy like “Jimmy I’m on my Dick” (I'm on my dick)
He fronted Johnny a 9. cause the plug gave him a brick
Johnny sold the dope, tricked it off and fucked it up
(I fucked up)
And now he gotta tell Jimmy how he fucked it up
But he ain’ never tell Jimmy how he fucked it up
He broke in Jimmys house, took his safe and had bad luck (What the fuck?)
See Jimmy had two bricks hidden in the kitchen
(For real?)
But Johnny went for the safe and thought he had the chicken (Shit!)
Wasn’t nothin in the safe, but a gun and a birth certificate (Who?)
See when you in this dope game, you can’t trust a ****
(Damn)
(You ain't supposed to do it)
(Thats fucked up right there)
(You ain't supposed to do it)
(Thats crazy)
(You ain't supposed to do it)
(Thats crazy shit right there)
(You ain't supposed to do it)
Written by: Fetty P Franklin
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