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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Polo G
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Taurus Bartlett
Songwriter
Tahj Vaughn
Songwriter
David Hutchison McDowell
Songwriter
Ryan ONeil
Songwriter
Julien Anderson
Songwriter
Melissa Keklak
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Polo G
Executive Producer
Tahj Money
Producer
Moneyevery
Producer
Joey G
Recording Engineer
Todd Hurtt
Recording Engineer
Eric Lagg
Mastering Engineer
Steven “Steve-O” Carless
Executive Producer
Stacia Mac
Executive Producer
D-Mac
Producer
Lyrics
Dmac on the fuckin' track
Tahj Money
I stood ten toes, I couldn't fold or panic
Them streets'll turn a good kid into a cold lil' savage
No point in church 'cause the
Preacher can't keep them poles from clappin'
It seem like evil and my soul attractin'
Hope for forgiveness for my sins while I load the ratchet
Playin' with bundles of that raw, that dope get sold to addicts
Forever scarred 'cause the way I lost my bros was tragic
'Member how we came up, like, damn, this wasn't supposed to happen
A nigga plot on me and I'ma have his homies cryin'
Go handle that, they wipe his nose way before we try
Can't really feed into a nigga when I know he lyin'
Love my lil' killer, keep him with me 'cause I know he ridin'
Hood on my back, was bustin' two-fours like Kobe Bryant
Sometimes I think like what's the likelihood of Kobe dyin'?
In that i8, I drop the top to let my Rollie shine
Make all these bitches stop and stare, like, "Girl, he know he fine"
Lookin' at this jewelry, thinkin' back when we was schemin' for mils
I took my Glock on tour with me, way OT with the steel
Might pour my heart out on these beats 'til all my secrets revealed
You know the fake gon' knock a nigga when he keepin' it real
Too much medicine, this raw shit got me fiendin' for pills
If them bullets ain't take out Lil B, he'd be in the field
I got soldiers marchin', lookin' for a reason to kill
He passionate about the murder, slang that heat with some skill
I stood ten toes, I couldn't fold or panic
Them streets'll turn a good kid into a cold lil' savage
No point in church 'cause the
Preacher can't keep them poles from clappin'
It seem like evil and my soul attractin'
Hope for forgiveness for my sins while I load the ratchet
Playin' with bundles of that raw, that dope get sold to addicts
Forever scarred 'cause the way I lost my bros was tragic
'Member how we came up, like, damn, this wasn't supposed to happen
You know the come-up was real when your mans hate
I just want a bag, put in that work and grow my fanbase
I just spill my life up on that beat and switch my landscape
I been tryna load up on them hundreds 'til them bands break
They say money talk, them VVSs help it translate
And robbers get some hot shit out the nine when them cans shake
These days, niggas logged in to who they wanna be
Feet up in the county, nigga, better give that phone to me
I ain't got it all, so could you please watch your tone with me?
Got my granny trippin', tryna figure out what's wrong with me
I'm from where you gotta make it happen when you wanna eat
They know I'ma spazz every time I breathe on the beat
I stood ten toes, I couldn't fold or panic
Them streets'll turn a good kid into a cold lil' savage
No point in church 'cause the
Preacher can't keep them poles from clappin'
It seem like evil and my soul attractin'
Hope for forgiveness for my sins while I load the ratchet
Playin' with bundles of that raw, that dope get sold to addicts
Forever scarred 'cause the way I lost my bros was tragic
'Member how we came up, like, damn, this wasn't supposed to happen
Writer(s): Inconnu Compositeur Auteur, Ryan O Neill
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