Similar Songs
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Young M.A
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Katorah Marrero
Songwriter
William Michael Coleman
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Mike Zombie
Producer
Lyrics
Zombie on the track
Yo, brodie, yerr
Ayy, man, we 'bout to go to Miami, man
We 'bout to go to the Yams, bro
I'm stressed out man
I need some love, man, yerr
Ayy, uh
Just drunk a half a bottle of that Henessy, I'm wavy
Had to leave that bitch before she played me
My feelings hurt, I cannot even lie that was my baby
But fuck love, love is just a bitch that never paid me
Then what'd you do? Went and got a bag like a boss do
So next time you wanna have my heart it's gon' cost you (Uh)
It's RedLyfe, baby, but my heart blue (My heart blue)
My money number one, so listen hoe you just a part two (Ooh)
So play your part, I ain't got no time for your feelings now
Landed in Miami, rent the 'Rari, put the ceilin' down
Ooh, uh, drip check (Ooh, ooh)
Shades on, neck wet, wrist wet (Okay, okay)
And I got that smile that'll make your bitch wet (Hello)
In Miami like Santana town
Dipset, Dipset, Dipset, Dipset
Dripset, dripset, dripset, dripset, ooh, uh
And I'm with my guys, all foreigns at the stop sign (Skrrt, skrrt)
And we spinnin' blocks, got a watch where the opps hide (Skrrt, skrrt)
Bad bitch, lookin' like a pie, she on thot time (Ooh)
Put Henny in her Mai Tai, now she on my time (Hello)
Then I hit the bro up, like let's go up on a Sunday (Yerr)
Five foreigns deep, gang hoggin' up the one way (Yes)
LIV on a Sunday, we ain't throwin' chump change (No)
Party on the yacht, couple thots and the fuckin' gang (Gang)
We ain't got no worries, drinkin' Henny just to numb the pain (Facts)
Big Cuban links, diamonds dancin' off the sun rays (VVs)
Ooh, uh, drip check (Ooh, ooh)
Shades on, neck wet, wrist wet (Okay, okay)
And I got that smile that'll make your bitch wet (Hello)
In Miami like Santana town
D-D-Dipset, Dipset, Dipset, Dipset
Dripset, dripset, dripset, dripset, uh (Ooh)
Jim Jones ballin' (Ooh)
Big drip saucin' (Hello)
Money and respect, got that Power like I'm Austin (Facts)
Back end money, get like 15 on the walk-in (Like 15 bands)
15 niggas deep, tell them bouncers let my dogs in (Let 'em in)
It's gon' be a problem if this Glock get to barkin' (Boom, boom, baow)
We gon' turn a opp into dog shit (That's a fact)
Put a price on him like an auction (He don't want that)
My niggas walk shit, we don't talk shit (Hold on)
I collect a bag, give my brother Reem a portion (Gang)
And we in them stores, came off tour with a fortune (We spend that)
I'm tired of flexin' on 'em, it's exhaustin' (I'm tired)
Neck on faucet, bad bitches on it
Ooh, drip check (Okay, okay)
Shades on, neck wet, wrist wet (Okay, okay)
And I got that smile that make your bitch wet (Ooh, ooh, ooh)
In Miami like Santana town (Zombie on the track)
Dipset, Dipset, Dipset, Dipset
Dripset, dripset, dripset, dripset
Dipset, dripset, dripset, dripset (Flex, flex, flex)
Writer(s): William Coleman, Katorah Marrero
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