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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Kid Ink
Performer
Juliann Alexander
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Juliann Alexander
Composer
Brian Todd Collins
Composer
Jay Rivera
Lyrics
Julius Rivera III
Composer
Morris Jones
Composer
Chris Jones
Composer
Michael S. Williams
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Squat Beats
Producer
Mr. Williams
Producer
Lyrics
I know later on you gon' tell me I was outta line
Showed up late cause I know I'm never outta time
Roll up, kill the blunt, commit another crime
With my middle finger up to the other side
It ain't motherfuckin' lit 'til we get inside
Tell your friends meet my friends and let's intertwine
Snapchat, baby girl ain't really into Vine
Keep on lookin' at me, vertigo then I'mma hit recline
Throw it at me backwards
While I make this money acrobat it, back flip
Tryna give me hickeys I could smell your Chapstick
I swear all these bitches is assassins
If they ever get me, only thing a nigga ask is
Please let me wear all my chains in my casket
Promise I'mma come back and visit you like Casper
If you ever need it baby, call and I will answer
This ring-ringtone keep goin' off
I got a new phone, checkin' all these mixed calls
Everybody say they wanna live like a boss
But you don't really know how much this shit cost
I might spend it up
I might save it up just to flip
Check my fuckin' phone
Look at all these calls I just missed
Check my fuckin' phone
Look at all these calls I just missed
Story of my life
Man I swear you could put it in writin', shit
I got a lot of commas in my bank account, but I need more
They like who the fuck is that when I pull up in that foreign
I got too much sauce, I gotta drip when I walk, yeah
You niggas irrelevant, so unimportant
All of my bitches be rockin' designers
She so like where did you find her
She don't open up for me, she the headliner
Then I [?]
Who you tryna flex on?
Bitch you know I'm [?]
I'm the best in this city, I'm just bein' honest
If that nigga thread a mil, I put that on my daughter, he won't get his paper
You think the nigga a gangsta, that nigga really a fake one
She be dancin' all on me, throwin' that there while I'm throwin' paper
I'mma do what I'm made for, she like papi hit me later
This ring-ringtone keep goin' off
I got a new phone, checkin' all these mixed calls
Everybody say they wanna live like a boss
But you don't really know how much this shit cost
I might spend it up
I might save it up just to flip
Check my fuckin' phone
Look at all these calls I just missed
Check my fuckin' phone
Look at all these calls I just missed
Story of my life
Man I swear you could put it in writin', shit
I might spend it up
I might save it up just to flip
Check my fuckin' phone
Look at all these calls I just missed
Check my fuckin' phone
Look at all these calls I just missed
Story of my life
Man I swear you could put it in writin', shit
End
Writer(s): Christopher Jones, Brian Collins, Julius Rivera, Michael Williams, Morris Jones, Julian Goins
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