Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Noah Levine
Songwriter
Christopher Giannaris
Songwriter
Jackson Courtnall
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Jackson Courtnall
Producer
Lyrics
Fuck, I'm getting' sick of this, man fuck that bitch
I'm tryna make it rich, gotta feed all my bros you better make a hit
Get the paper cheques, got my momma rent down
I can't sign, I cannot lie, the price ain't right, yeah
It's my time, I'm sayin', yeah
I'm sick of all the shit I've been through
I'm getting' sick of this, man fuck that bitch
I'm tryna make it rich, gotta feed all my bros you better make a hit
Get the paper cheques, got my momma rent down
I can't sign, I cannot lie, the price ain't right, yeah
It's my time, I'm sayin', yeah
I'm sick of all the shit I've been through
I know this shit's not distant, I'm takin' off on a missile
Fathers got me weighin' down on my ambitions (Yeah)
Take off now, I'm all in, we ballin', I called it
He callin', told me to stop it
I been workin' too hard to throw the towel in
I'm getting' sick of this, man fuck that bitch
I'm tryna make it rich, gotta feed all my bros you better make a hit
Get the paper cheques, got my momma rent down
And I don't just know when we could call yeah
Just got another offer they just been texting me v
Vexing me, like we're in a coma
We don't even know 'em, don't need help from no one
Someday we'll be up, labels try to fuck with us
Offers not enough, I just can't believe I got this life I thought I fucked it up
Didn't even know if I'd make it out my home (Not anymore)
Fuck, I'm getting' sick of this, man fuck that bitch
I'm tryna make it rich, gotta feed all my bros you better make a hit
Get the paper cheques, got my momma rent down
Writer(s): Noah Levine
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