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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Lil Loaded
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Dashawn Robertson
Composer
Noah Cousins
Composer
Dante Guzzi
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Noah Cuz
Producer
Ferno
Producer
Ghost
Recording Engineer
Emix
Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
All my opps know who they is
You and this bitch, lemme talk to you, fuck nigga
Stand up, lemme talk to you nigga (you spazzin')
(Noah, why you do that shit?)
He play, I'ma stop this shit (lil' bitch), what?
A whole lotta shots in this bitch, yuh
It's flake, I'ma drop that shit (lil' bitch), what?
A whole lotta shotta shit, yuh
He play, I'ma stop this shit (bitch), what?
A whole lotta shots in this bitch (Rra), yuh
It's flake, I'ma drop that shit (now what?) What?
A whole lotta shotta shit, yuh (that shotta)
We fightin' 'bout who get to kill 'em, I'm slangin'
They let me bang him, that fuck nigga playin'
You got cash out, so I'm goin' back home
Drop all the windows with Glocks
Your shit made all of this shit stop with a chop
Three fingers, but still'll clean up with a mop
Three fingers, but still'll clean up with a mop
Ayy, let's get it, go
Bodies start droppin', we uppin' the scope
Hit you for brains when I need me some more
He was sleep on the couch but got left on the floor
And y'all ain't ride 'bout it (nope), y'all ain't slide 'bout it (nope)
So y'all ain't hard 'bout it (nope), stop that hard talkin'
Stuff on the neck be slippin'
When bodies start droppin', they swear that we trippin'
I fuck with real niggas, can't fuck with no bitches
You hang around me, then this Glock had me standin'
Ain't got time with switchin', can't fuck with no fakes
Don't tell me you slime 'cause that mean you a snake
Chop that boy up, leave his ass in a lake
They tell me I'm gas and I'm revvin' the engine
Gimme the drop and I'm plannin' on spendin'
He play, I'ma stop this shit (lil' bitch), what?
A whole lotta shots in this bitch, yuh
It's flake, I'ma drop that shit (lil' bitch), what?
A whole lotta shotta shit, yuh
He play, I'ma stop this shit (bitch), what?
A whole lotta shots in this bitch, yuh
It's flake, I'ma drop that shit (now what?) What?
A whole lotta shotta shit, yuh (that shotta)
These is the shot, no dread locks
For a bag, yeah, give him a headshot
Real him, he don't need no red dot
All I do is give my dawg the head nod
Me and Yoshi, we young, we reckless
Come through and scratch him and leave that boy messy
The labels be like, "Y'all just chill on the killin' shit"
Soon as we leave we go right back to drillin' shit
I rap what I'm livin', no capathy
Twelve let me stay at the trapathy
I know that these niggas be mad at me
Now that I'm up they tryna come after me (bitch)
I can't stop my shine for him
I can't stop my grind like that
Bum bitch broke my heart
Can't believe she waste my time like that
Now she lookin' like a dumb bitch
Suck on my clip while she chill in the sun
She just might get flipped if my dog say he want that
She tryna fuck the gang, she tryna fuck my chain
She tryna fuck my reign
She want the fancy trips and the foreign cars and the boarded plane (lil' bitch)
He play, I'ma stop this shit (lil' bitch), what?
A whole lotta shots in this bitch, yuh
It's flake, I'ma drop that shit (lil' bitch), what?
A whole lotta shotta shit, yuh
He play, I'ma stop this shit (bitch), what?
A whole lotta shots in this bitch, yuh
It's flake, I'ma drop that shit (now what?) What?
A whole lotta shotta shit, yuh (that shotta)
Writer(s): Dante Guzzi, Noah Cousins, Devin Robertson
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