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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Bris
Vocals
G Man
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
G Man
Songwriter
Christopher Treadwell
Songwriter
Hamish Muir
Songwriter
Lyrics
Bris
Ayy G Man, uh
What's up, fool?
Uh Laudiano
Ayy, ayy
I been runnin' to the cake
You been cupcaking (You been cupcaking)
Let me shoot my shot
I ain't pumpfaking (I ain't pumpfaking)
See that gold on your neck
I'll come take it (I'll come take it)
Thirty dick hanging out the Glock like
It's buttnaked (Like it's buttnaked)
You can catch me up in traffic
With that heater on me (With this heater on me)
Bad bitch on my side
You know I keep her on me (You know I keep her)
Dumb nigga talkin' slick
Put the Reaper on him (Put that Reaper on him)
Park his load broad day
Just for speaking on me (Baow, baow)
Yeah, you'll probably get far
If you stop and listen (Stop and listen)
Movin' like the president
With a proposition (I got a proposition)
I be politicking like a politician (Like a politician)
Not to mention, niggas fuckin'
With the opposition (They fuck with suckers)
They killed my brother, sheddin' tears
Thought I'd never cry (Thought I'd never cry)
You better get a pole
I ain't selling mine (I ain't selling mine)
I keep it True Story, I ain't telling lies (I ain't telling lies)
I just did a drill, breaking news
It got televised (On my mama)
Yeah, these bitches call me daddy
Got me playin' father (Yeah, they call me daddy)
But I don't buy 'em shit
I gotta raise a daughter (I gotta raise a daughter)
I just wanna slide
Like it's Raging Waters (Like it's Raging Waters)
Quick to put this metal to his line
But I ain't a barber (But I ain't a barber)
You was 'posed to slide for me
But you never came (But you never came)
Married to the game
I need a wedding ring (I need a wedding ring)
Nigga dry snitched 'cause he said a name (Huh?)
I'll let it rain with G Man
On Ten Letta Gang (Bah-bah-baow, uh)
I been runnin' to the cake
You been cupcaking (You been cupcaking)
Let me shoot my shot
I ain't pumpfaking (I ain't pumpfaking)
See that gold on your neck
I'll come take it (I'll come take it)
Thirty dick hanging out the Glock
Like it's buttnaked (Like it's buttnaked)
You can catch me up in traffic
With that heater on me (With this heater on me)
Bad bitch on my side
You know I keep her on me (You know I keep her)
Dumb nigga talkin' slick
Put the Reaper on him (Put that Reaper on him)
Park his load broad day
Just for speaking on me (Baow, baow)
When them niggas tried to slide
I didn't go to sleep (I couldn't go to sleep)
I ain't hanging out the windows
Walking up on feet (Walking up on feet)
Niggas love to run they mouth
So I was one deep (I was one deep)
Yeah, this a real true story
But we not gon' speak (We not gon' speak)
This nigga bitch so wet
Slappin' all on her cheeks (On her cheeks)
Before she even gave me top
I got all of the cheese (All the cheese)
You know I keep a fat loaf
You could see through my jeans (You can see)
Just let a nigga try to rob me
He gon' be on the scenes (Huh?)
Renegades get cut just for talking slick (What?)
Tell them niggas come outside
'Cause we got them sticks (We got them sticks)
Yeah, your load a moving target
But I'm not gon' miss (I'm not gon' miss)
Me and Bris on the blade
Tryna knock a bitch (On my mama)
Ten Letters fuck with the rest
Who you rockin' with? (The real)
Bad bitches all on our dick
They always jockin' us (They always jockin' us)
You know we headed to the top
So they watchin' us (Steady watchin' us)
Sucker niggas talkin'
But that ain't stoppin' us (That ain't stoppin')
I been runnin' to the cake
You been cupcaking (You been cupcaking)
Let me shoot my shot
I ain't pumpfaking (I ain't pumpfaking)
See that gold on your neck
I'll come take it (I'll come take it)
Thirty dick hanging out the Glock like
It's buttnaked (Like it's buttnaked)
You can catch me up in traffic
With that heater on me (With this heater on me)
Bad bitch on my side
You know I keep her on me (You know I keep her)
Dumb nigga talkin' slick
Put the Reaper on him (Put that Reaper on him)
Park his load broad day
Just for speaking on me (Baow, baow)
Writer(s): Hamish John Muir, G Man, Bris Bris
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