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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
YFN Lucci
Vocals
DJ Lavish Lee
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Marcus Murray
Songwriter
Rayshawn Lamar Bennett
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
John Horesco
Mastering Engineer
Leslie Braithwaite
Mixing Engineer
DJ Lavish Lee
Producer
Keith Dawson
Recording Engineer
Lyrics
Think It's A Game
DJ Lavish Lee
Yeah, ayy, uh
Yeah
Look, the way that ice wrapped
'round my wrist, you'd think my shit hurt
Remember sellin' dimebags for a nickel
If they ain't from over here, you know bro 'nem might strip them
Could you believe I came up rappin' on instrumentals?
One hand on my pistol, money on my mental
I like bitches with dimples, with piercings in their nipples
Smoke a zip with Milk Dud, then eat you like a Milk Dud
Bitch, I need my dick rubbed, then you just might get up
Remember trappin' in them hallways just to get up
Now my house got long hallways and elevators
Yeah, we used to hit shit up, used to get your shit tucked
Look, thought we weren't gon' pull up (Yeah)
Now you niggas shook up (Yeah)
Used to wonder how a million dollars feel
Now my mama got a million dollar crib
Look, used to see where we grew up
Used to dream, Martin Luther
Sing to her like I'm Luther, growin' pain, but we grew up
Know they hatin', we gon' do us, at The Flame at like two somethin'
Know we came with 'bout two somethin', Glock 40, I got two of 'em
My palms itchin' too, mom, I went and got my crew some
On a lot of pain pills, man, I swear I'm too numb, yeah
Stiff on a bitch, on my dick she left her lipstick
Whole lot of drank, we on meds like I'm too sick
Shout out Gudda, bitch, we goin' in like it's past six
Try and take, three, two, one, blast it
I got a bitch in south Florida, she get nasty
I ain't gon' lie, she too fire, she do mad tricks
And when we fly, when we land, we do mansion (We got paper now, nigga)
Private party, you can't even get your man in
Girl, why you teasin'? Why you sleepin' with your panties?
Girl, I'm tryna eat you, tryna treat you like some candy
Look, treat you like we married (Stop playin')
And yeah, that dress looks good,
but even better when you ain't wearin' it
Uh, used to wonder how a million dollars feel
Now my mama got a million dollar crib
Look, used to see where we grew up
All my life, shit been screwed up
Court cases, they locked Ju up
Free Canon and Lil' Q-Dog
They court and he gon' do y'all
I can't keep missin' their calls
Gotta get 'em a new phone
I pray that they all call home
Give a fuck...
Give a fuck...
I swear I can't wait 'til we ain't gotta hurt no more
Oh, yeah
Oh, oh, oh, oh, yeah
Used to wonder how a million dollars feel
Now my mama got a million dollar crib (Million dollar crib)
We made it, made it far
They never knew that we had it in our heart
Used to wonder how a million dollars feel
Writer(s): Rayshawn Bennett, Marcus Murray
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