Similar Songs
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Fredo Bang
Vocals
Uno Reyes
Bass
GD Beats
Drums
hardbody Beazy
Programming
MobTys
Guitar
Ice The Producer
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Frederick Givens II
Songwriter
Jackie Plant Jr.
Songwriter
Eli Haire
Songwriter
Gerardo Delgado
Songwriter
Anthony Yang
Songwriter
Auston Dillings
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Uno Reyes
Producer
GD Beats
Producer
hardbody Beazy
Mixing Engineer
MobTys
Producer
AD Beats
Producer
Jess Jackson
Mastering Engineer
Ice The Producer
Recording Engineer
Lyrics
(What are you? Who are you the mob or somethin'?)
(It's a GD beat, Uno got the streets goin' crazy)
(Hard body)
I'm ballin' hard, ain't gotta pass the ball
I don't need your sex at all
I done knocked down half the town
I don't need no pass around (yeah)
I've fucked the finest, covered in diamonds
They think that I'm conceited (they think that I'm conceited)
Fuck a bitch, I need my check, up in my palm
I gotta see it (yeah, yeah, yeah), uh-huh
You spend your rent, your water bill, your light bill too
Just on your bundles (on your bundles)
Babe, I'm a ape
I give you dick fresh out the jungle (fresh out the jungle)
I got shit, they tryna fuck me, keep your kid, and I'm like, "Nah"
You get a bag and want a baby, we could go half (oh, oh)
Could turn you up, could turn you down, you get your options (yeah)
I could turn you to a baddie like Madonna
I work at Mickey D's
When you can't fuck with a big-timer (we get high)
You can be my bitch, but you don't come before these commas
Oh-oh, rada, rada, rada, rada, rada, ra (yeah)
I hit a lick, split this shit with my guys (yeah)
I'ma pick the money over bitches all the time
Why stress a bitch? This money got me feelin' fine
Rich bitch, I cut you off right now
You tell me you can't play the part (yeah, yeah)
Bitch, I'm turnt up bad, I don't need your ass
I could have any whore (yeah, yeah)
I got this shit on me right now
What the fuck I gotta be cappin' for? (Got that shit on, I)
Stripper bitch
I pissed that shit you clappin' your lil' booty for(I gotta put 'em on)
I got a bitch to line 'em up
And now she wonder where's the fire (fire)
Turnin' heads and breakin' necks
When I be passin' in my ride (ride)
She been sellin' that lil' pussy
She done ran up all her miles (miles)
Tryna plant a baby, I use a rubber
I can't believe that ho had tried
Could turn you up, could turn you down, you get your options (yeah)
I could turn you to a baddie like Madonna
I work at Mickey D's
When you can't fuck with a big-timer (we get high)
You can be my bitch, but you don't come before these commas
Oh-oh, rada, rada, rada, rada, rada, ra (yeah)
I hit a lick, split this shit with my guys (yeah)
I'ma pick the money over bitches all the time
Why stress a bitch? This money got me feelin' fine
Writer(s): Norman Payne, Fredrick Ii Givens, Jackie Plant
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