Music Video

Don Toliver - BACKSTREETS (FEAT. TEEZO TOUCHDOWN) [Official Audio]
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Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Don Toliver
Don Toliver
Performer
Teezo Touchdown
Teezo Touchdown
Additional Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Aaron Thomas
Aaron Thomas
Songwriter
Bryan Yepes
Bryan Yepes
Songwriter
Caleb Toliver
Caleb Toliver
Songwriter
Carlos Muñoz
Carlos Muñoz
Songwriter
Christopher Ruelas
Christopher Ruelas
Songwriter
Derek “206derek” Anderson
Songwriter
Douglas Ford
Douglas Ford
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Bryan Yepes
Bryan Yepes
Producer
Derek “206derek” Anderson
Recording Engineer
Joe LaPorta
Joe LaPorta
Mastering Engineer
Los Hendrix
Los Hendrix
Producer
Nascent
Nascent
Producer

Lyrics

I met her last week (last week) Slidin' through the cold backstreets (cold backstreets, brr) I don't know you, ho, but you knowin' me (knowin' me) I saw you put away your foreign key (foreign key, yeah, can I?) Can I get your number? (Number) I'ma hit you up We can link all summer and go and fuck it up Girl, you got me drunk, I need it in a rush Can you fuck it up? Can you fuck it up? Can you fuck it up? Yeah Can you fuck it up? (Bet you can't) Take you out of town, girl, can you fuck it up? I'ma take you 'round, girl, I'ma fuck it up (baby, I'ma) Hit you from the back in my Maybach truck Can you fuck it up? Want me to be your Backstreet Boy, girl, let's get in sync You don't wanna know what you need, locked up in a Maybach seat And I'm ridin' with my piece, beat the pussy up, R.I.P. Don't hold back, baby, unleash You was splashin', it ain't no lease Took enough time off, where you goin'? Where you been? Lifestyle full of sins, but you heaven-sent, oh You know who to come to when you feel it all cave in When you know you need savin', I'm the one you put your faith in Let you heat the summer, chain cold just like winter Real trees just like timber, need a band that match my tempo Glad I kept your info, backseat, tryna see what it's hittin' for Grab tight, hold on like a leash, ah Know the life I live ain't simple I can't help myself, girl, I need your help Cooking that special, this ain't self-serve See the cops over by the light, hit it by the next turn Runnin' back, let me do it for ya, ain't no pressure I met her last week (last week) Slidin' through the cold backstreets (cold backstreets, brr) I don't know you, ho, but you knowin' me (knowin' me) I saw you put away your foreign key (foreign key, can I?) Can I get your number? (Number) I'ma hit you up We can link all summer and go and fuck it up Girl, you got me drunk, I need it in a rush Can you fuck it up? Can you fuck it up? (Woah) Can you fuck it up? Yeah Can you fuck it up? (Bet you can't) Take you out of town, girl, can you fuck it up? (Oh, baby) I'ma take you 'round, girl, I'ma fuck it up (baby, I'ma) Hit you from the back in my Maybach truck (oh, oh, oh, baby) Can you fuck it up, girl, can you fuck it up? (Baby, can you? Mm) Take you out of town, girl, can you fuck it up? (Oh, baby) I'ma take you 'round, girl, I'ma fuck it up (baby I'ma) Hit you from the back in my Maybach truck (oh, oh, oh, baby) Can you fuck it up?
Writer(s): Aaron Thomas, Bryan Yepes, Caleb Toliver, Carlos Munoz, Christopher Ruelas, Derek “206derek” Anderson, Douglas Ford Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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