Upcoming Concerts for MAVI & Smino
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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Smino
Rap
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Omavi Ammu Minder
Songwriter
Christopher Smith Jr.
Songwriter
Robert Davis
Songwriter
Cade Phillip Blodgett
Songwriter
Sebastian Genoa
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Nephew Hesh
Producer
Cade
Producer
Asean Bwoy
Producer
Jeff Thompson
Recording Engineer
Preston "Prizzie" Reid
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
Yeah, makin' a play for my bredren
Let **** think they ahead of me
A million in the oven, cookin' up
I stopped lookin' how **** remember me
Hundred legs in this city like centipedes
Once I spank, then it's "Thanks for the memories"
Got a ring for the game on a bended knee
I can't name all the things that it lent to me
I was with Bloody, I just had sold out LA
Back to back, we stuffin' hos in the Porsche
Helicopter, New-York, for the skyline of course
Getting chased by some hos I ain't thought I'd afford
Getting fame that I thought I'd avoid
Can't remember a month that I ain't make a 40
Gained a hustle that made me immortal
Fakin', stuntin' just make **** corny
They mistake me for soft 'cause I'm cordial
I take **** off, you can't say I ain't warn you
I retain what I'm taught from the soil
They can hate all they want, but they know me
Hit a stain, I stand tall on my doley
I'm afraid they involved with the police
Got the most with the least, off of no sleep
But I'm coziest on the low-key
Makin' a play for my bredren
Let **** think they ahead of me
A million in the oven, cookin' up
I stopped lookin' how **** remember me
Hundred legs in this city like centipedes
On some spank 'em, and thanks for the memory
Got a ring for the game on a bended knee
I can't name all the things that they lend to me
A'ight
Lil' MAVI you got me, word, yeah
Making a play, Mike Tomlin (whoo)
Twin with me too, he Omar Epps, two-step through the congregation like a bishop
It is what it be bitch, "c'est la vie" shit
CeraVe on the skin, smoother than criminal
Sara Lee by the bag, get the bread, then we toast
'Cause this shit wasn't like this couple years ago, goddamn (baby)
Hardly gettin' downtime, that ain't how I get down
Time waits for no man, no
Life like a restaurant, bet own the whole spot or end up on the menu
Straight from the Northside off West Florissant, proof what poverty can do
Naturally, lil' ol' me keep three-four freaks for the inspo'
Naturally, knee-deep in the curly-head freak, poppin' out her Bantus
Used to take the MetroLink, now I'm linkin' with Metro Boomin, damn, dude
The BIC flick quick as a fan pick, wick too thick, never puttin' out the candle
The BIC flick quick as a fan pick, wick too thick, never puttin' out the- (yeah)
Ooh (yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah), ooh
(I-, I take **** off, you can't say I ain't warn you)
(Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah)
(They can hate all they want, but they know me)
I'm afraid they involved with the police
Got the most with the least, off of no sleep
But I'm coziest on the low-key
Yeah, makin' a play for my bredren
Let **** think they ahead of me
A million in the oven, cookin' up
I stopped lookin' how **** remember me
Hundred legs in this city like centipedes
Once I spank, then it's "Thanks for the memories"
Got a ring for the game on a bended knee
I can't name all the things that it lent to me
Written by: Cade Phillip Blodgett, Christopher Smith Jr., Omavi Ammu Minder, Robert Davis, Sebastian Genoa