Credits

AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Don Toliver
Don Toliver
Stimme und Gesang
Justin Bieber
Justin Bieber
Stimme und Gesang
Future
Future
Stimme und Gesang
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Justin Bieber
Justin Bieber
Texte
Caleb Toliver
Caleb Toliver
Texte
Nayvadius Wilburn
Nayvadius Wilburn
Texte
Omar Guetfa
Omar Guetfa
Komponist:in
Rob Bisel
Rob Bisel
Komponist:in
Ronald LaTour
Ronald LaTour
Komponist:in
Derek “206derek” Anderson
Songwriter:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Omar Guetfa
Omar Guetfa
Produzent:in
Rob Bisel
Rob Bisel
Produzent:in
Eric Manco
Eric Manco
Tontechniker:in für Gesangsaufnahmen
Josh Gudwin
Josh Gudwin
Tontechniker:in für Gesangsaufnahmen
Dominic Vicario
Dominic Vicario
Aufnahmeingenieurassistent:in
Damon “DJ” Riggins Jr.
Mischtechnikerassistent:in
Jacob Richards
Jacob Richards
Mischtechnikerassistent:in
Mike Seaberg
Mike Seaberg
Mischtechnikerassistent:in
Rachael Blum
Rachael Blum
Mischtechnikerassistent:in
Jaycen Joshua
Jaycen Joshua
Mischtechniker:in
Joe LaPorta
Joe LaPorta
Mastering-Ingenieur:in
Derek “206derek” Anderson
Aufnahmeingenieur:in
Cardo Got Wings
Cardo Got Wings
Produzent:in
RYAN MELLOW
RYAN MELLOW
Aufnahmeingenieur:in
206Derek
206Derek
Produzent:in
Ryan "Mellow" Venable
Ryan "Mellow" Venable
Aufnahmeingenieur:in

Songteksten

[Intro]
I'm feelin' stuck
Feelin' stuck
I'm off a bean
Yeah
Like, what the fuck?
What the fuck?
I'm in the tree
She holler up
Holler up
What you need?
What you need?
Got it up
[Verse 1]
I don't know why these hoes can't stand me
I guess I'm too demanding
Wanna hit the double Coke, the candy
I'm so high, no landing
Keepin' that Glock, grip steady
Rockin' this shit, confetti
They all let it go on the telly
They all wanna rub my belly
I got my dawgs out, I'm poppin' at the Ritz
I got 'em comin' in, shit look like a blitz
She wanna check me up, she wanna check my fit
I pull up, the Maybach jumpin', shorty better check my hits
I don't know why these hoes can't stand me
I guess I'm too demanding
Private landing, I guess I keep my candy
She a super soaker when the beaches sandy
I got her in the O, call, better call me Randy
[Verse 2]
Diamonds and Margiela, AP canary yellow
Yeah, she deserve a Patek, 'cause she one of the members
For sure
When it come, it's adorable, money not a problem
Turned me to a killer, I just smashed a model
Yeah
Tiffany come blue, her pussy good and pink
Pink
Chicago in the wintertime, I'm orderin' minks
The minks
Sellin' out arenas, I just murked the streets
The streets
Coppin' a brand new castle in the Middle East
My bitch sit Indian style when we sit down and eat
I could do this shit, one take, but my style ain't free
Pluto
I don't take hoes on no date, 'less they got pretty feet
I swear
Quarter million on her head, quarter million on her head
She mop it down the best, I can't feel my leg
My leg
Swear, I done sniped off your hoe for a crumb of bread
Hoe, got racks goin' out the roof, they bustin' through the ceilin'
Racks
My new bitch, she the truth, show me a couple million
Freebandz
All on your body, like I'm
[Chorus]
I'm feelin' stuck
Feelin' stuck
I'm off a bean
Yeah
Like, what the fuck?
What the fuck?
I'm in the tree
She holler up
Holler up
What you need?
What you need?
Got it up
[Bridge]
Mmm, keep goin', mmm
Keep goin', keep goin', mm-mmm
Keep goin', keep goin'
Mmm, keep goin', keep goin'
Mm, keep goin', keep goin'
Mmm, go, go
Mmm, keep goin', keep goin'
Mmm, go
I guess I'm spinnin', double cup, I'm leanin'
So good, so good, taste it, talk to me
Guess I'm spinnin', double cup, I'm leanin'
Need you to lean in
Lean
[Verse 3]
She wanna come this way, uh
Heat it up, microwave
Heat it up, mic—, what, what?
She wanna ride my wave
She wanna come this way
She wanna—, uh, she wanna—, she wanna—
She wanna—, notice how you're feelin' tonight
Ah, yeah-yeah, so tight, baby, sure, tonight
Oh, it's how you're feelin' tonight
I guess I'm too demanding, I guess I'll keep my candy
I tried to tell you, but you know the demons guiding
Just touched down in Miami
I guess I'll keep my candy, I guess I'm too demanding
[Verse 4]
She wanna ride my wave, she wanna rock my chain
Heat it up, microwave, come on, I'll show you my place
She wanna ride my wave, she wanna rock my chain
Heat it up, microwave, come on, I'll show you my place
[Chorus]
I'm feelin' stuck
Feelin' stuck
I'm off a bean
Yeah
Like, what the fuck?
What the fuck?
I'm in the tree
She holler up
Holler up
What you need?
What you need?
Got it up
Written by: Caleb Toliver, Derek Anderson, Justin Bieber, Nayvadius Wilburn, Omar Guetfa, Rob Bisel, Ronald LaTour
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out