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Crédits

AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Kodak Black
Kodak Black
Stimme und Gesang
Travis Scott
Travis Scott
Stimme und Gesang
Offset
Offset
Stimme und Gesang
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Bill Kahan Kapri
Bill Kahan Kapri
Songwriter:in
Christina Gandy-Rogers
Christina Gandy-Rogers
Songwriter:in
David Doman
David Doman
Songwriter:in
Jacques Bermon Webster II
Jacques Bermon Webster II
Songwriter:in
Justin Thomas
Justin Thomas
Songwriter:in
Kiari Cephus
Kiari Cephus
Songwriter:in
Marcus Prince
Marcus Prince
Songwriter:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
David Doman
David Doman
Produzent:in
Chris Ulrich
Chris Ulrich
Ingenieur:in
Drew Drucker
Drew Drucker
Ingenieur:in
Jamie Peters
Jamie Peters
Ingenieur:in
Tyler Unland
Tyler Unland
Ingenieur:in
Chris Athens
Chris Athens
Mastering-Ingenieur:in
Jacob Richards
Jacob Richards
Mischtechniker:in
Jaycen Joshua
Jaycen Joshua
Mischtechniker:in
Mike Seaberg
Mike Seaberg
Mischtechniker:in
Rashawn McLean
Rashawn McLean
Mischtechniker:in

Paroles

D.A. got that dope Ice water, turned Atlantic (freeze) Night crawlin' in the Phantom (skrrt, skrrt) Told 'em hoes that don't you panic Took an island (yeah), flood the mansion (big water) Dropped the roof, more expansion Drive a coupe you can stand in (it's lit) See the bitches undercover (in the sheets) I'm an ass and titty lover (big ass) Guess we all made for each other Now that all the dawgs free (yeah, yeah) And we out in these streets (alright) Can you do it, can you pop it for me? Pull up in a demon, on God (God) Lookin' like I still do fraud Flyin' private jet with the rod (rod) This that Z shit, this that Z shit Pull up in a demon, on God (God) Lookin' like I still do fraud Flyin' private jet with the rod (rod) This that Z shit, this that Z shit Offset, blow the brains out the coupe (boom) Police wanna talk, but I'm on mute (woo-woo, hey) I'ma bust her wrist down 'cause she cute (ice, ice) Fuck her on a yacht, dive in a pool (yeah) She an addict (addict), addict for the lifestyle and the Patek (Patek) Big daddy, have you ever felt Chanel fabrics? (Chanel) I be drippin' to death, I need a casket (drippin'-drippin') And we got more stripes than the ref, he foul, TEC him (bow, stripes) In the middle of the field like David Beckham (field, bow) All my niggas locked up, for real, I'm tryna help 'em (free, free) When I got a mil', got me the chills, don't know what happened (hoo, chills) Pop pills, do what you feel, I'm on that zombie (hey, hoo) I'm more like Gaddafi, I'm not no Gandhi (Gaddafi, hey) I'm more like I'm David, Goliath runnin' (hey, hey) Niggas be clonin', I find it funny (clone, haha) We from the Nawf, straight outta the dungeon (we from the Nawf, hey) I go in her mouth, she can't tell me nothin' (eghck, eghck, egchk) 300, the watch is out of your budget (woo, woo, 300) Mean-muggin' got me clutchin', yeah, and this stick right outta Russia (brr) Ice water, turned Atlantic (freeze) Night crawlin' in the Phantom (skrrt, skrrt) Told 'em hoes that don't you panic Took an island, flood the mansion (big water) Dropped the roof, more expansion Drive a coupe you can stand in (it's lit) Bitches undercover (in the sheets) I'm an ass and titty lover (big ass) Guess we all made for each other Now that all the dawgs free (yeah, yeah) And we out in these streets (alright) Can you do it, can you pop it for me? Pull up in a demon, on God Lookin' like I still do fraud Flyin' private jet with the rod This that Z shit, this that Z shit Pull up in a demon, on God Lookin' like I still do fraud Flyin' private jet with the rod This that Z shit, this that Z shit In a Hellcat, 'cause I'm a hell-raiser Self-made, I don't owe a nigga none favor When you get that money, nigga, keep your heart I'm slidin' in a coupe, ain't got no key to start I got the fire on me in BET Awards When your well run dry, you know you need me for it When I pull up in the Buick, you know what I'm doin' If the police get behind me, I'm fleein' and eludin' Sleepin' on the palette turned me to a savage I'm a project baby, now I stay in Calabasas Like I still serve fiends, like I'm still jackin' I be sippin' on lean, tryna keep balance Hit that Z-Walk, Dickie's with my Reeboks I don't say much, I just let the heat talk Your jewelry water whip, diamonds like re-rock My lil' baby ride the dick like seat lock When I stepped up on the scene, I was on a bean When I jumped up out the Beam', I was in Celine Baby girl, you just a flin', that ain't what I mean Money bustin' out my jeans like I do the scheme Pull up in a demon, on God (God) Lookin' like I still do fraud Flyin' private jet with the rod (rod) This that Z shit, this that Z shit Pull up in a Demon, on God (God) Lookin' like I still do fraud Flyin' private jet with the rod (rod) This that Z shit, this that Z shit Uh-huh, ha, oh-ah-oh Uh-huh, ha, oh-ah-oh Uh-huh, ha, oh-ah-oh Uh-huh, ha
Writer(s): Jacques Webster, Kiari Cephus, David L Doman, Christina Gandy, Marcus Andrew Prince, Justin Brian Thomas, Bill Kapri Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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