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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Gucci Mane
Vocals
Lil Baby
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Christopher N’quay Rosser
Songwriter
Radric Delantic Davis
Songwriter
Dominique Jones
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Amani "A $" Hernández
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer
Eddie "eMIX" Hernandez
Mixing Engineer
Quay Global
Producer
Lyrics
Brr, cook that shit up, Quay
Brr, lean, blah, lean, blah
This dope'll make you do the Kanye, took so many opiates
The mall ain't even open yet, but Gucci made 'em open it
Dr. Trapenstein, and I just prescribed a Percocet
She ain't even fine enough, so I don't even wanna hit
Fishtailin' out of Tootsies, bag full of hundreds
And I told the dealer he can keep the talk 'cause I don't want it
Think my house is haunted, woke up seein' a dyin' bitch
Gucci on that don shit, so wealthy that my son rich
Yeah, hop out that new Maybach like I come from paper (That's my fam, bitch)
You been cuffin' bitches, you a super-saver (Superhero)
My lil' boy already rich, he got my future paper (Checks signed)
We just parked the Wraith inside the elevator (Elevator)
Tootsies on Tuesday, in the private room making a movie (Movie)
I got some vibes with me getting groovy (Groovy)
We at the top floor in a jacuzzi (Jacuzzi)
Ridin' with some hot boys like I'm Juvie (Lil Wayne)
I'm on that dumb shit like I'm Gucci (Guwop)
I just spent twenty-six thousand in Gucci (Gucci)
Go ask about me, this shit ain't no new shit
I was gettin' money before it was music (Music)
I don't drink, I don't sip, I abuse it (Abuse it)
I did what I did, got 'em clueless (Clueless)
Think these Adderalls got me all loose (Yeah)
Got your bitch on my drip, she been choosin' (Yeah)
She been checkin' me out, I been movin' (Yeah)
So much money, it's getting confusin' (Yeah)
Only winnin', ain't doin' no losin' (Yeah)
This dope'll make you do the Kanye, took so many opiates
The mall ain't even open yet, but Gucci made 'em open it
Dr. Trapenstein, and I just prescribed a Percocet
She ain't even fine enough, so I don't even wanna hit
Fishtailin' out of Tootsies, bag full of hundreds
And I told the dealer he can keep the talk 'cause I don't want it
Think my house is haunted, woke up seein' a dyin' bitch
Gucci on that don shit, so wealthy that my son rich
Show me that pussy cat 'cause El Gato got a cat wrist (Brr)
Shooter got that rocket on him, call him James Harden
We be straight ballin', wet T-shirt contest
Top off, call us up, the coupe color Sunkist (It's Gucci)
I be going hard on 'em, I'm on that Lil Pump shit (Pump)
I don't even know how my money got so retarded
Trap God (Trap God), Gucci sandals on like I was Jesus (Yeah)
Bitch fine as Kim K, and these are not Yeezy's (It's Gucci)
This dope'll make you do the Kanye, took so many opiates
The mall ain't even open yet, but Gucci made 'em open it
Dr. Trapenstein, and I just prescribed a Percocet
She ain't even fine enough, so I don't even wanna hit
Fishtailin' out of Tootsies, bag full of hundreds
And I told the dealer he can keep the talk 'cause I don't want it
Think my house is haunted, woke up seein' a dyin' bitch
Gucci on that don shit, so wealthy that my son rich
Wizzop (Hah)
Lil Baby
Writer(s): Dominique Jones, Christopher St. Victor
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com