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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
DD Osama
DD Osama
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
David Reyes
David Reyes
Composer
Lucas Sarudiansky
Lucas Sarudiansky
Composer
Noyan Dadal
Noyan Dadal
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Ayolucas
Ayolucas
Producer
tthatsnasty
tthatsnasty
Producer

Lyrics

Y'all know what the fuck goin' on, nigga The Future 14, 17 Bow, bow-bow Bow, bow-bow Like, why is they playin' wit' my body? (Like, what?) Like, why is they smokin' on Notti? (No, they not) Like, why is they smokin' on Dot? (No, they not) If they smokin' on bro, send 'em up with Lotti (Lotti) I remember them nights, takin' trips (I remember) Me and Notti totin' on that stick Saw an opp, threw a shot, and we made 'em run Rick, like He was buggin', tryin' to make 'em a spliff (Bow, bow-bow, on bro) Niggas be actin' real crazy, like Like, whole time, they really not When I bring out my .30, I pass it to Loc Cause I know he gon' get 'em, he gon get 'em shot (Bow, bow-bow) 'Member days posted up on the Ave Young lil nigga tryna get 'em a bag He ain't have nun', so he had to go trap Started buggin', and flippin' them packs Nowadays, see the face of this shit He can go to Dior, get whatever he get Can't a nigga say nothin', 'cause he buy his own shit Saw the opps in the V, they ain't parkin' that whip (Bow, bow) They ain't parkin' that whip, like He gon' tweak, he gon' throw about 6 He lost his brother, he ain't goin' for shit Before they take a hit, put one in the spliff, Nigga Rule number one, you go on that drill, you better pull that trigger Rule number two, you gotta watch out for the D's Move tact, they always out to get you Rule number three, it should've been rule number one Thank god, you made it out the picture If not, that bullet flyin' would've hit you (Bow, bow) Now your mother cryin', cause she miss you (Cause she miss you) Now we back on that block I'm outside, so my killy's totin' on that knock Move rogue when I pump, cause I'm gon' get you got Bow, bow-bow We gon' say you off to god Dudey' the threat, and I gave him that name He took trips so he gettin' that chain Forget about R.G., BLOODIE, Banga These are my niggas that'll let it bang Better make sure they lock back door If not, you gettin' sent to the Lord Niggas be greedy, you give 'em a hand Whole time they'll snake you and bite a hand off, like They'll bite a hand off Even after you done give 'em clothes I will never trust a nigga, no We get slime, we the ones that be wipin' they nose Rule number one, you go on that drill, you better pull that trigger Rule number two, you gotta watch out for the D's Move tact, they always out to get you Rule number three, it should've been rule number one Thank god, you made it out the picture If not, that bullet flyin' would've hit you (Bow, bow) Now your mother cryin', cause she miss you (Cause she miss you)
Writer(s): David Reyes, Lucas Sarudiansky Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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