Top Songs By Popp Hunna
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Popp Hunna
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Omir Bernard
Songwriter
Jack Richard Thierer
Composer
Charles Edward Claeys
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Yakree
Producer
Slayer
Producer
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer
Salvador "Fatol Flow" Majail
Mixing Engineer
Samuel Aaron
Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
Uh, uh, let's go (thanks Yakree)
Baow, let's go
Brrrt, let's go (Slayer)
Hold up, hmm, hmm, I'm sayin' like
White shoes, all white shine
Fresh out the jet and it's on right now
I say, hop out the jet with all white damn
(Ayy yo' DJ, bring the shit back)
Man, I got on fresh forces with a diggy
With a white polo tee and an all black blicky (damn)
I'm the hottest nigga in the city (say what?)
And I can't name another nigga in the city fuckin' with me, like (let's go)
Only drive the whip if it don't got keys (got keys), huh
Oh, I got that gat to go where opp squeeze (bow, bow), huh
Yeah, he got that, but he ain't got these
Catch me trippin' 'bout a thot, hmm, bitch please
And my main jawn want a Birkin (want a Birkin)
I said she better work the middle 'til that motherfuckin' hurtin'
'Til it get to bussin', get to squirtin' (get to squirtin')
I told her eat the dick up, don't gag, no burpin'
I'm a young nigga lick, hit a young snipe (young snipe)
Fresh to death, like a baby, no wipe (no wipe)
Keep a strap, you would think I'm a dyke (I'm a dyke)
If it's static, we gon' get you on sight (on sight)
Uh, I'm in a party with my ice on (ice)
And my shit gon' dance, you ain't gotta turn the lights on (bling)
She suck it good, she the right jawn
And then I'ma two steps with my motherfuckin' bikes on
Hundred, hundred, hundred bussin' out my pants, huh
If you add it up, that's a hundred bands (yeah), huh
What I spent a week probably your advance, huh
Told her that I jigg, girl, I don't dance (let's go)
Wanna see me? Bitch, you better catch an Uber (catch an Uber)
He a bitch, but he claim he a shooter (brrt, bow)
Pistol P run down with the ruger
Throw a shot, hit your top, your medulla (huh)
Uh, now you're dead, dead (huh?)
With a motherfuckin' bullet in your head, head (huh?)
Huh, yeah, heard what I said, said (huh?)
That's gon' happen if you're playin' with my bread, bread (huh?)
'Cause I'm a young nigga lick, hit a young snipe (young snipe)
Fresh to death, like a baby, no wipe (no wipe)
Keep a strap, you would think I'm a dyke (I'm a dyke)
If it's static, we gon' get you on sight (on sight)
Writer(s): Omir Bernard, Jack Richard Thierer, Slayer
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