Top Songs By King Jai
Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jarrad Johnson
Songwriter
Javan Ishman
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Matthew Robinson
Producer
Steven Lawrence
Recording Engineer
Knottz The Engineer
Mixing Engineer
Earle Holder
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
Stood off in the trap And I made a half a ticket
Call me Young Houdini it was magic how I did
Stood off on the block I was serving pounds of midget
A dirty ass revolver, this was way before the switches
Riding to that UGK
Dirty money ima spend it
I dropped it in the pot had to whip me up a Bentley
Staying free of all the haters and these dirty trifling women
The way I put that shit together think I'm fucking with the chemist
You know they call ya boy a don
Like I'm fucking with the mafia
No mask up on my face
This ain't the phantom of the opera
Hit Shawty from the back she begging me to get on top of her
You niggas nun but rats
All you really do is copy us
I'm vibing out Niggas at the plate they striking out
I'm hiking out get the word and get the drop
I'm riding round
Spilling liquor on yo sofa
Give a fuck about ya couch
These niggas growling like some lions
Leave em quite as a mouse
And I'm on my own wave
Grinding for 4 days and you in the house
I never gave a fuxk with these niggaa was talking bout
Don't care about clout
I make the trap jump when I get In my mode
Back up when I'm moving the load
Act up and he getting exposed
We back on the road
Stood off in the trap And I made a half a ticket
Call me Young Houdini it was magic how I did
Stood off on the block I was serving pounds of midget
A dirty ass revolver, this was way before the switches
Riding to that UGK
Dirty money ima spend it
I dropped it in the pot had to whip me up a Bentley
Staying free of all the haters and these dirty trifling women
The way I put that shit together think I'm fucking with the chemist
Don't play tha game
Keep the dope
No sage geniis
And if it's lines
That they want
I give em plenty
Got em hooked up on the dope
Like popeye and the spinach got
Got em hooked up on the rope
They somewhere stuck up in it
Losing track of time
I'm somewhere in the mind
I'm living rent free
Man fuck a 9 to 5
They said the dope a sell itself
So I cook up in the booth
Just like a chef
5 star meals
We just want the mills
Full off dollars bills
Want that house
Off in the hill
Had to get for real
Had to hit the block
And make em feel
Some they never feel
Put that dope up close up to they ears
Stood off in the trap And I made a half a ticket
Call me Young Houdini it was magic how I did
Stood off on the block I was serving pounds of midget
A dirty ass revolver, this was way before the switches
Riding to that UGK
Dirty money ima spend it
I dropped it in the pot had to whip me up a Bentley
Staying free of all the haters and these dirty trifling women
The way I put that shit together think I'm fucking with the chemist
Writer(s): Jarrad Johnson
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