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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Chuckyy
Chuckyy
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
David Meiners
David Meiners
Composer
Luna Hensten
Luna Hensten
Composer
Charles Edward Davis
Charles Edward Davis
Lyrics
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Chuckyy
Chuckyy
Producer
Justin "Jusvibes" Gibson
Justin "Jusvibes" Gibson
Mixing Engineer
Bugg
Bugg
Producer
Glossalia
Glossalia
Producer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
It's too much shit goin' on, can't focus, nighttime, fightin' **** when I'm sleep
**** be slime, you can't trust no one, my blood brother put hoes on tees
Get your ass lit up before you reach, had an Instagram bitch on her knees
My lil' brother know how to spell Benjamin Franklin and he don't even know how to read
[Verse 2]
Uh, me and Milly D pourin' up lean
Drop a four in a Crush, you leanin'
Police come, I don't know what happened, rest of him got left in the cement
In the 'Raq, **** bap for no reason, lil' **** in the 'Raq wanna be me
But shit, Bloodbathh, we global, we done got bigger than my TV
I done stopped fuckin' with my titi, this money turn **** against you
Shawty nice, with the glee here a fisher, drench or drown show him what that glick do
Get sticked up, wе ain't with you
Bloodbathh take **** Cubans
He a bitch with the Glock, he ain't blew it
Hit a bitch from the back then spoon her
I don't need new **** around me, **** you see me with, they family
Ice water on me, I'm drownin', I don't even like rockin' my diamonds
Aye, she match my fly, then she my bitch, know Chuckyy the rapper be stylin'
Police on there profilin', I don't fear no man, you wildin'
[Verse 3]
Fell asleep off drink in the back of the back, looked up, the driver got stopped
Police tellin' us, "Step out the car," my mind went 80k cash and a glock
Every **** that dissed got popped, smoke ol' boy 'nem, this shit 'za
**** catch you ran on spot, act stupid, end up on Spot
You ain't did this before, can't get in the car
Shit a movie like Tony Stark
You a baby boy, you ain't got heart, every **** with me FN shark
I ain't lecture the school but I'm smart, dead in jail, they said I was gonna be
But everybody gotta die one day, so they knew they was just frontin'
Straight-eight Jeep, this bitch hummin', grown shit want me put the thumb in it
But I just been thumbin' through hundreds, can't trade all the money for nothin'
Boy, you slow, I ain't switched on my brothers
Some of us went through that struggle, some of us locked in, all muscle
I'll point my finger, they'll touch you
[Verse 4]
I don't be chillin' with rap ****, I'd rather go chill with trap ****
Some of my **** be trappin', get the weight and be stackin'
We ain't locked in, you bappin', this Glock can do magic
Bitch, you ain't thick, you plastic, **** straight bitch, they bappin'
Lambchop, this one the fast one, tryna race in the boat, we zap 'em
Millies, they comin' the fastest I like pretty girls with fat asses
It's a blessing and curse, what's the pattern? Gotta wait, this little bitch flatter
Fuck once, gotta go, time matter, drive a floater, I'm on Saturn
I just lost 10K on Saturday, made 40K Sunday, so I'm better
I just be stacking up cheddar, you **** been runnin' y'all mouth
Talkin' shit, we infront of your house
7.62 go through houses, but ain't shit gangster about it
Pocket thick like Megan Thee Stallion, I can't love a bitch, it ain't in me
Dunk on **** just like Wemby, Chuckyy Wackem the talk of the city
Money, lean, come to me like frisbees, off the lean, don't fuck up my kidney
Sippin' green, lil' ****, you silly, track lift up, this bitch wheelie
Smash on shit like dude on the Grizzlies
[Verse 5]
Some of these **** be homo, I don't do no free promo
Gangsters cry, but I ain't cried in so long, want my money now, what is the prolong?
Bad lil' bitch, she a throat G.O.A.T, I ain't got money for showin' for no ho
But we can go out to Maestro's, go to the pent', fuck on the high floor
High off drink, my eyes closed, Milly D on point for me
I don't play with no knives, you bugging, number twenty, a **** got a button
You let hoes push yo' buttons
We get money, the opps' be strugglin'
Hellcat life, you get how it's comin', I smoke good gas, shit like onions
What I mean by that, **** teary eyed, **** see us, they be runnin'
That's no bap, we leave shit terrified, Drac' let off, blood clot in his stomach
Ten milli', shit swole like pumpkins, internet trolls be the same **** runnin'
Grown ass goofy be makin' assumptions, I don't need Glock, on bro, I'll punch him
Written by: Charles Davis, David Meiners, Luna Hensten
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