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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
DJ
DJ
Vocals
Jeeezy
Jeeezy
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Deon Hawkins
Deon Hawkins
Songwriter
Jaylar Abram
Jaylar Abram
Songwriter
Deangelo Smith
Deangelo Smith
Songwriter
Alec Michael Tolkin
Alec Michael Tolkin
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Al B Smoov
Al B Smoov
Producer
Lowthegreat
Lowthegreat
Producer
William Binderup
William Binderup
Mixing Engineer
Oscar Cornejo
Oscar Cornejo
Recording Engineer
Chris Athens
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

Jeezy what you on? Yeah I'm at the Ritz 911, I need your help I'm all alone with six Yeah, all these bitches ready, ain't gotta tell 'em shit Alright, get them bitches' phones, we ain't takin' pics This the one I want to grab, would you look at this? Went out with my bitch and all her fam we finna eat real quick Why the fuck you just sayin somethin? Can't believe this shit But if you really got six hoes, I'm finna leave this bitch (Yeah I do) Swear to God, on my life, I do Hurry up, they singing every word they want me to Yeah, that thick bitch here, the one that wanted you Takin' shots, throwin ass, I got em settled in and comfortable I walked in, she like, "There go Jeeezy" they like, "Bitch, where?" Bitches on me, said she like my Lavers, these the big pair Doin' hoes the coldest, damn, I could've been from Big Bear Why this nigga watchin' all my stories? Think his bitch here Finna figure out the ones that's fuckin, send the rest home I just told 'em what you said, nigga, nothin' less I think we need more bitches, this ain't fun yet Bitches greet me, pullin' down my pants, ain't got a hug yet Let's act like we gotta leave to make these bitches go Let's grab the stripper hoes from Cheetahs, they get off at four Alright, nigga, say no more (Say no more) But how my bitch know we out? What the fuck you post? Turn a Sprite to a caramel frappé, what the fuck you pour? Jeeezy, where my drank? I'm lookin' for it, yeah, I know you know I don't touch niggas' drank, nigga, I don't know You the last nigga I seen with it, nigga, where it go? Nigga, look up in the freezer, oh, I see it, here it go I could round up all the bitches, you could call me merry-go Knew exactly who her nigga was, I ain't tell her though Nigga sayin' he used to hang with us, I don't remember though Two thousand dollar hoodie, you don't hear me though Yeah, I see you, I'm in Maxfield with Saint Michaels on Prada bucket, yeah, that's what type of time I'm on Let's go out of town to crack some bitches we ain't never seen Niggas always talkin' 'bout the hoes that they never bring I'm on 65th eatin' wings at C&W Told Jeeezy, "Keep steppin', never let these niggas humble you" Told DJ, "We them niggas, let these bitches outnumber you" Jeeezy, what you on? I'm at the Ritz 911, I need your help, I'm all alone with six Yeah, all these bitches ready, ain't gotta tell 'em shit Alright, get them bitches' phones, we ain't takin' pics This the one I want to grab, would you look at this? Went out with my bitch and all her fam, we finna eat real quick Why the fuck you just sayin' somethin'? Can't believe this shit (Thought I did) But if you really got six hoes, I'm finna leave this bitch
Writer(s): Deangelo Darby Smith, Jaylar Abram Jr, Deon Demetrius Hawkins, Alec Tolkin Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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