Top Songs By Shy Glizzy
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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Shy Glizzy
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Marquis King
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Avedon
Producer
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer
Fabian Marasciullo
Mixing Engineer
Liz Robson
Recording Engineer
Rarrii
Engineer
Lyrics
Yeah, how you like that?
Flew the bitch out and now she on a flight back
I sent you a message, you ain't even write back
God sent you a blessing, you ain't even strike back
I'm straight out them trenches, where you had to fight back
I still remember that kitchen, where I learned to cook crack
We live from Hollywood, baby, how you gon' act?
She said, "You too hood", tell me how you love that
Yeah, I was a ghetto trapper, now I'm livin' larger
I moved out LA and I turned into a Dodger
Your bitch keep callin' mе, yeah, I had to stall her
Bitch, I'm a baller, rеal shot caller
Cuban links, what the fuck you think, girl?
Winter time comin', I'm gon' buy you minks, girl
Fuck your dream, girl, I live in your dream world
I'm not a loud nigga, I won't make a scene, girl
They want my head gone, that's why I move so militant
I put my hood on, and niggas wan' be Zimmerman
Bitch I'm a gangsta, not a law-abidin' citizen
I could kill a wangster with a hunnid fuckin' Benjamins
Yeah, how you like that?
Flew the bitch out and now she on a flight back
I sent you a message, you ain't even write back
God sent you a blessing, you ain't even strike back
I'm straight out them trenches, where you had to fight back
I still remember that kitchen, where I learned to cook crack
We live from Hollywood, baby, how you gon' act?
She said, "You too hood", tell me how you love that
Yeah, the perfect endin'
Sorry God, I know we sinnin'
She just pretendin', she love you but she know we winnin'
I got racks, a whole lot, yeah, like fuckin' tennis
Ugly shooters, I call 'em my fuckin' Gremlins
My ex-girl told me, "I can't never give no hoe my heart"
If I say I love you, then don't ever let that tear apart
Ain't got no friends, I lost most of 'em in the dark
Go ask the trenches, they say, "Jefe got that shit on lock"
Who's realer? Baby, tell me, who's iller?
Different type of nigga, I'm makin' different type of figures
I'm hesitant to kick it but I'm quick to pull the trigger
Fuck you 'round the villa, take the PJ to Anguilla
Yeah, how you like that?
Flew the bitch out and now she on a flight back
I sent you a message, you ain't even write back
God sent you a blessing, you ain't even strike back
I'm straight out them trenches, where you had to fight back
I still remember that kitchen, where I learned to cook crack
We live from Hollywood, baby, how you gon' act?
She said, "You too hood", tell me how you love that, yeah
Writer(s): Composer Author Unknown, Marquis Amonte King
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