Music Video

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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
EST Gee
EST Gee
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
George Stone III
George Stone III
Songwriter
Jeffrey Lynn Jones
Jeffrey Lynn Jones
Songwriter
Luke Clay
Luke Clay
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
FOREVEROLLING
FOREVEROLLING
Producer
LC
LC
Producer
Eric Fernandez
Eric Fernandez
Mixing Engineer
Colin Leonard
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

(FOREVEROLLING) yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah I still got it, nigga, action or exotic Ain't no label get me poppin', soon as he touch the bottom, drink some water Make it harder, fish with side of tartar for a shooter or a snorter I'll make you to a martyr easy, step in front this carbon (brr) I'm into extortion, we gon' pay the work, it's cornered Catch a nigga early mornin', buyin' diapers for his daughter Lot of rappers just be actin', they in character performing Seen so much, it's normal, I ain't develop no disorder I'm spinnin' over and over, nothin' come out, opps out of order Out here, I'm like Jordan, ain't nobody stoppin' me from scorin' Beach gon' play the block, then run the floor for me, my power forward Everybody thank the Lord, God gave a million to lil' George 'Cause as many as it is now, if I was around, it'd be more As in poor, as in corpses and wars and morgues Like, nah, I don't fuck with him, he cap (nah) Switch the phone, it might be tapped, turn this sizzoft into crack Blow this dope up for me, blow this dope up for me Blow this dope up for me, nigga, blow this dope up for me (yeah) Like, nah (nah), I don't fuck with him, he cap Switch the phone, it might be tapped, turn this sizzoft into crack Blow this dope up for me, blow this dope up for me Blow this dope up for me, nigga, blow this dope up for me (yeah) You know I took his shit closed-fist (closed), yeah, they ain't give it to me (shit) Dog cook a mixed pit-bully, I get 'em, ship it to me Tried tax it, so know we took it, he gotta popped for tryna whoop me Big shiner, bigger money, quiet 'fore I put it on him My lil' brother richer than his big homie Skinny, bony, pants XL, stick on him (brr) Patient once we sittin' on him Trippin', ain't tint the windshield, it's easier to see him still I ain't leavin' 'til he get killed, how you think that it make me feel? No, you ain't on nothin' for real, knowin' that ain't love you feel Knowin' I play dumb for real, I'm slammin', get my cousin killed Wonder, do you love me still? You know I hate you Can't wait to spank you, they ready should I say to (yeah) Like, nah, I don't fuck with him, he cap (nah) Switch the phone, it might be tapped, turn this sizzoft into crack Blow this dope up for me, blow this dope up for me Blow this dope up for me, nigga, blow this dope up for me (yeah) Like, nah (nah), I don't fuck with him, he cap Switch the phone, it might be tapped, turn this sizzoft into crack Blow this dope up for me, blow this dope up for me Blow this dope up for me, nigga, blow this dope up for me (yeah)
Writer(s): Luke Clay, Jeffrey Jones, George Stone, Kameron Johnson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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