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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Luh Tyler
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jack Thierer
Songwriter
Jayden Rolle
Songwriter
Tyler Meeks
Songwriter
Davyn
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer
Don Cannon
Mixing Engineer
Davyn
Producer
JayForeiign
Producer
Yakree
Producer
Lyrics
Yeah, yeah, yeah, mm-mm
Yeah, yeah, yeah, mm, Mr. Ski, nigga (thanks, Yakree)
Ski
Yeah, yeah, ay, nigga
Ridin' 'round town smokin' gas (yeah, yeah)
All I wanna do is count them racks (yeah, nigga)
'Member I was broke, I can't go back, uh-uh
I can only fuck her if she bad, uh-huh
Once I grabbed the mic, jumped in my bag, uh (yeah, yeah)
She say, "What's your hobby?" Chasin' cash, runnin' bands up (a bag)
She just wanna fuck me 'cause I'm lit, that's that fan stuff
Yeah, yeah, if you a bad bitch, then put your hands up
All these diamonds on me with the stars, my shit dancin' (damn, damn)
Don't hit my phone, if it ain't 'bout a check, I won't answer (on God)
Every day, I'm runnin' up that check, tryna get it (yeah, nigga)
Bust the Rollie down
I don't got no time for these bitches (ice, ice, ice)
They ain't never think that we would shine 'til we did it (on God)
Check my roster, all my bitches fine, yeah, they pretty (bad bitch)
Bro done lost his mind, he ridin' 'round with that switchy
Every day, I'm on the grind, tryna put that bag up (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Only baddies 'round, if she ain't fine
Tell her back up (tell her back up)
Nigga hatin' just 'cause his life ain't like mine
That shit sad, bruh (yeah, that shit sad, bruh)
Paper chaser, I'm a money fiend for that cash, yeah (yeah)
Must think she a City Girl 'cause all she wanna do is act up
Ridin' 'round town smokin' gas (smokin' gas, nigga)
All I wanna do is count them racks (yeah, yeah)
'Member I was broke, I can't go back, uh-uh (nigga, yeah)
I can only fuck her if she bad, uh-huh (bitch, on God, nigga)
Once I grabbed the mic, jumped in my bag, uh (in my bag, nigga)
She say, "What's your hobby?" Chasin' cash
Runnin' bands up (chasin' cash)
She just wanna fuck me 'cause I'm lit, that's that fan stuff
Yeah, yeah, if you a bad bitch, then put your hands up
Came in with a pocket full of cheese, I got cheddar now (yeah)
Not the type to sit up on my ass like them other guys
She walked in the room, seen Mr. Ski, she got butterflies (yeah)
I didn't think this rappin' shit was me, but I love it now
Yeah, yeah, all my diamonds hit, uh (ice)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, outside with that shit, uh (nigga)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, LA with my bitch, uh (nigga, damn)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, she showin' me tricks, yeah, uh (uh, uh)
A bitch that ain't gon' go, that don't exist (no, that don't exist)
Know they on, bro
Feel like Frozone 'cause my fuckin' wrist like a snow globe
I can't never go broke for no bitch, that's a no-go
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, that's a no-go)
Ridin' 'round town smokin' gas (smokin' gas, nigga)
All I wanna do is count them racks (count them racks, nigga)
'Member I was broke, I can't go back, uh-uh (nigga, yeah, yeah)
I can only fuck her if she bad, uh-huh
Once I grabbed the mic, jumped in my bag, uh (In my bag, nigga)
She say, "What's your hobby?" Chasin' cash, runnin' bands up (yeah)
She just wanna fuck me 'cause I'm lit, that's that fan stuff
Yeah, yeah, if you a bad bitch, then put your hands up
Yeah, put your hands up
Yeah, yeah, if you a bad bitch, then put your hands up
Yeah, ski
Writer(s): Davyn Nuñez, Jack Thierer, Jayden Rolle, Tyler Meeks
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com