Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
ALLBLACK
ALLBLACK
Vocals
22nd Jim
22nd Jim
Vocals
$tupid Young
$tupid Young
Vocals
DaBoii
DaBoii
Vocals
Fenix Flexin
Fenix Flexin
Vocals
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Cal-A
Cal-A
Producer

Lyrics

(Cal-A, keep it lit) Ask Bape, I got every cleat up in the store (cleat check) ALLBLACK got some real pimpin' goin' on Hit Barneys, spend a D, press Scott on Louis (thank you) Thought I was 1017 in all this Gucci (Gucci) Jewish money like I'm Berkley, bustdown jew'y (yeah, yeah) I'm the cleat man and money man, bitch, salute me Field Marshall, or the blade, all I served is coochie Austin Powers groovy, molly in me, it's a movie I ain't lovin', cuffin' nothin', that's for everybody I'm like Tre Factor, my knockoff pockets is sloppy (I need it all) Put your hands on your knees, bitch, give me a boost (break your back) I need a bitch who don't mind rubbers on her tooth Bust an outcall with a white colored jawn at Ruths Glock in the coupe, I'm in the field turned up like Juice Everybody in your clique gon' die, you touch me (die) Golden State, I'm number one like Meech or Muggsy (Cal-A made that beat, I had to trip on it) Tell s-, hit my line when that bag land He called me, say he gotta do the bag dance It do somethin' to my soul when that bag land Call me Jimmy, I'm the 22nd bag man And I put your ass to sleep, I'm the Sandman I can't see me spending money on no lap dance Shout out my cousin, feel like, man, I made 'em tap dance Black nigga breakin' snow, save the last dance Break jaws, lost some pockets on a clumsy nigga Give me 80 for a line, 100 to lummy niggas Runnin' plays in my cleats like Polo tee Only want her if she focusing on her feet Niggas vegan to the streets, never had beef Only niggas that got stripes can stand by me Tinted windows, I don't ride in no see-through You ain't gotta keep staring, you can speak, boo (Cal-A, keep it lit) And I just want the finer things in life, I feel like Polo G You niggas worry about breakin' down the door and I done stole the key Got a bitch to cool me down up in the booth 'cause I might overheat I can't believe it took me all these views for you to notice me I can't believe the motherfuckin' devil got a hold of me The beef he running from, your favorite rapper, I control the beef Crazy how they hate up in my city, but it's love overseas Oh, why he never take his glasses off? They like, "That boy a geek" Got the word that Cal-A made this bitch, so now I'm trippin' on it Heard all your music through your label and they sittin' on it Why the fuck is niggas muggin' like bring my gun? Bitch, I ain't LL Cool J, I don't need no love And brodie pull up from the three, that boy stay out the vision I heard you was the man around this bitch, I'ma still try to, nigga Brag about how you would never lack, well bitch, you dyin' with it And everybody strapped, but not too many out slidin' with 'em, bitch $tupid Young, ayy Nigga sleepin' on me, bet this .40 wake him up 30 rounds in the clip for niggas who thinkin' they tough I can see y'all throwin' shade, these Cartier buffs You flexin' bands on the 'Gram, but that ain't enough Fuckin' with his BM, every day she call me bae Fuck her from the a.m. to the p.m. in this Bape Young Asian nigga grinding 'til I'm in the Wraith And Afficials be the label, meaning I can't fuck with fakes Tell a bitch nigga hold up like my name was Slim 4 This a real nigga party, you can't get the info Trap with my killers and them niggas got them pistols All type of magazines, you can get the issue (Cal-A, keep it lit) ayy, ayy You ain't gotta keep staring, you can speak, bitch We them niggas ridin' 'round town tryna sweep shit Lollipop ass nigga on some sweet shit I got this big chop, I ain't playin' any defense (chappo) Niggas ain't gangster, they just rap good (bitch) Smokin' Runtz by the eighth in a Backwood (Backwood) I just talked down some chile, yeah, I'm that good (ayy) These niggas do it for the 'Gram, they just act hood Ayy, I been feeling like the chosen one (chosen one) Bitch, your nigga broke, girl, you chose a bum Put my buffs on a bitch, then I beat it up It's like everywhere I go, a nigga need a cut If you don't greet me with some money, I'ma leave it up (leave it up) To you, baby (ayy) If we beefin', ain't no tweetin', I'ma heat it up Nigga, you know I move crazy (Cal-A made that beat, I had to trip on it) ayy, ayy I'm with 22nd Ways, we the Play Runners (Play Runners) I just pull out thirty thousand, that's some play money Ayy, nigga sprintin', run it up (run it up) If I tell you come up out it, better give it up (give it up) Niggas got one life, I'm finna live it up (live it up) Mixing Henny with Patrón, now I'm lit as fuck (lit as fuck) Nigga, ha-ha Bitch
Writer(s): Arturo Alcantar, Paulo Rodriguez, D Andre Sams, Fenix Rypinski, Alex Pham, Wayman Barrow, James Pullum Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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