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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Lil Keed
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Fernospazzin
Songwriter
Isaiah Blouir
Songwriter
John Lam
Songwriter
Raqhid Render
Songwriter
ferno
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Joe LaPorta
Mastering Engineer
John Lam
Producer
Bloublood
Producer
ferno
Producer
A.'Bainz' Bains
Mixing Engineer
Angad Bains
Mixing Engineer
Anthony 'Dub" Williams
Recording Engineer
Aresh Banaji
Mixing Engineer
DUB
Recording Engineer
Fi de Roca
Producer
Lyrics
Yeah, I'm banging red, but my beat came from Bloublood
Yeah
Feelin' like BSlime, livin' like DaBaby
Long live Hot, long live BJ
Long live Big Boo, yeah, King Rock crew
Ferno, you spazzin'
Slatt business
Had to karate the chop top
Get it for the low, what did it cost y'all?
I just been steppin' in CC
I rock with the 6, man, I'm hangin' with Yung Mal
Nigga better not talk 'bout slime
We killin' your partner, your mama, just watch your mouth (ayy, pull up, Lam)
Nigga be poppin', poppin' 'bout the slime
Then hood baby, we knock ya socks off (what?)
What? What?
The Rollie watch, I had to bust it
Nigga follow me, I had to clutch it
Yeah, my shooters shoot sticks, yeah, they get a rush
Double twins on it, in the cup, ice crushed
I might get geeked up by the bunch
Yeah, I might hit the gas on 'em, leave 'em dusty
Whole lot of bands, tell a nigga tighten up
Wide body, wide body swerves in the trenches
So many hoes havin' me in they mentions
Nah, I'm no cap, get you slimed like Grinch
.223 sit 'em down like a bench
Brick status, shawty, I stay with a bitch
Stick active, yeah, who tryna get hit?
StickBaby whackin' everythin', bitch
YSL lifestyle, I can't switch, ooh
No small car, got it big body, bitch
If she starstruck, it ain't me, it's the wrist
Had to invest on my name and the kid
Yeah, fuck quarantine and COVID
'Cause it slowed the money down
With the shows
Now I gotta hit up a bowl
I need that bread by the loaf
Pay for the nails and the toes
In that big granddaddy Rolls
I'ma go whip out a whole load
Gat, yeah, it's black like Django
These niggas cap like a Kangol
Nah, I ain't scared, we don't tiptoe
Had to karate the chop top
Get it for the low, what did it cost y'all?
I just been steppin' in CC
I rock with the 6, man, I'm hangin' with Yung Mal
Nigga better not talk 'bout slime
We killin' your partner, your mama, just watch your mouth
Nigga be poppin', poppin' 'bout the slime
Then hood baby, we knock ya socks off (what?)
What? What?
The Rollie watch, I had to bust it
Nigga follow me, I had to clutch it
Yeah, my shooters shoot sticks, yeah, they get a rush
Double twins on it, in the cup, ice crushed
I might get geeked up by the bunch
Yeah, I might hit the gas on 'em, leave 'em dusty
Whole lot of bands, tell a nigga tighten up
My money green, ain't talkin' relish, ooh
Chopper hit his head and bail it, ooh
Catchin' action just like Tom Cruise
Her pussy wet and warm, jacuzzi (hey)
Spendin', now I'm spendin' like they dead next week (hey)
Gotta treat my number one like a trophy (hey)
Her brother drinkin' lean and he 'bout to OD (hey)
But he got so much love for codeine
Hey, oh (woo)
I ain't stand you niggas, I'm all by my lonely
Chrome Heart the glasses, my chain snowconin'
Long dick on the strap like a Coney
Had to stripe it like a tiger, no tony
Run with that bag and I ain't doin' no fumblin'
I ain't clumsy, so I'll never be phony
Dropped some racks in my bag on the first
But I gave it to my bitch, it look like a purse
My money longer than the wing on a bird
Thankin' God, but I didn't go to church
Hit her one time with dick, she gon' learn
Got my money, put an ass on her first
Ain't no sucker, I ain't scared, I got heart
And I already knew that I'd be first
Had to karate the chop top
Get it for the low, what did it cost y'all?
I just been steppin' in CC
I rock with the 6, man, I'm hangin' with Yung Mal
Nigga better not talk 'bout slime
We killin' your partner, your mama, just watch your mouth
Nigga be poppin', poppin' 'bout the slime
Then hood baby, we knock ya socks off (what?)
What? What?
The Rollie watch, I had to bust it
Nigga follow me, I had to clutch it
Yeah, my shooters shoot sticks, yeah, they get a rush
Double twins on it, in the cup, ice crushed
I might get geeked up by the bunch
Yeah, I might hit the gas on 'em, leave 'em dusty
Whole lot of bands, tell a nigga tighten up
Writer(s): Raqhid Jevon Render, . Fernospazzin, Isaiah Blouir, John Paul Lam
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com