Featured In

Credits

AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Jon Bellion
Jon Bellion
Stimme und Gesang
Roc Marciano
Roc Marciano
Stimme und Gesang
RZA
RZA
Stimme und Gesang
B.Keyz
B.Keyz
Stimme und Gesang
Travis Mendes
Travis Mendes
Stimme und Gesang
Mylon Hayde
Mylon Hayde
Programmierung
Aaron Dales
Aaron Dales
Bassgitarre
Alexander Abayev
Alexander Abayev
Geige
Boris Deviatov
Boris Deviatov
Bratsche
Stan Orlovsky
Stan Orlovsky
Cello
Raul Cubina
Raul Cubina
Programmierung
Mark "Oji" Williams
Mark "Oji" Williams
Programmierung
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Travis Mendes
Travis Mendes
Songwriter:in
Mylon Hayde
Mylon Hayde
Songwriter:in
Aaron Dales
Aaron Dales
Songwriter:in
Raul Cubina
Raul Cubina
Songwriter:in
Hakim Hardy
Hakim Hardy
Songwriter:in
Jon Bellion
Jon Bellion
Songwriter:in
Mark "Oji" Williams
Mark "Oji" Williams
Songwriter:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Jon Bellion
Jon Bellion
Produzent:in
Mylon Hayde
Mylon Hayde
Produzent:in
Aaron Dales
Aaron Dales
Produzent:in
Chris Galland
Chris Galland
Mischtechniker:in
Manny Marroquin
Manny Marroquin
Mischtechniker:in
Ben Dotson
Ben Dotson
Schnitttechniker:in
John Arbuckle
John Arbuckle
Aufnahmeingenieur:in
Michelle Mancini
Michelle Mancini
Mastering-Ingenieur:in
Raul Cubina
Raul Cubina
Aufnahmeingenieur:in
Mark "Oji" Williams
Mark "Oji" Williams
Produzent:in

Lyrics

You already know how we came up I'm saying it was a real pain in the butt If there's paper to touch You may just cut just scraping it up Get your trachea cut and then escape in a truck Smudge a lady makeup, bang the 380 Wake the baby up I just came for the weight like a gymnasium I'm finna spray everything in my radius Lately, my skin been looking radiant The Mercedes is '80s sent I have three 6's in my fade like Damian I'd die before I let the jakes take me in Babe, we everything we say we is (Facts) My stable of women couldn't fit in the stadium They sayin' me and Jon Bellion we some aliens And durags had us looking like Saudi Arabians Your way miscellaneous, we some ladies men It's Roc, Marcberg be the alias Now let's begin Was never focused on gettin' bigger, just gettin' better That's why I keep gettin' bigger after every record Said I got lucky, the last record that y'all was blessed with Watch me give you sequels, I'm Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon I let the talent speak volumes, that's why there's different levels I stopped the flexin' on socials, corny shit to impress you You get too famous, then everything in your life is stressful There's a big difference 'tween being known and being successful Great grandfather, an immigrant from the Naples district Dirty Guinea crew in the cut, call that the true incision My wife thicker than liquor soaked in Italian biscuits Cookin' minestron' every Sunday, call that a superstition I left LA just to cook in Brooklyn, the winter's reaper I sleep in Timbs and a Yankee fitted, that's just for leisure I'm really better than everybody pretends to be So ask the label now, why the fuck would I want an urban feature? "I love the song and we really wanna know how you made it" Or I could keep all you wondering how we been creatin' It's annoying when cameras catchin' your every statement And I've had enough of these corny artists that replicate it Champagne supernovas destroy the morning glory I'd rather build an oasis sober and thrive at 40 Don't get me wrong, I've been celebrating the life before me But I see the wisdom in moderation for certain stories When you're afraid to hurt feelings, you water down the worth I'm done pretending your record's great and I'm down to work Plus, I'll be actress and mixed with sociopaths And when I'm worried about being famous for being down to earth I spoke with Yahweh, he told me Jesus crafted us in Which means my brother's my brother, it don't matter the skin America needs to watch how they treat His chosen people But that's for deeper than surface records, now let's begin Now let's begin Yeah Now let's begin Foot on the gas, foot on your neck One mansion, others gasping for a breath I'm unclassed, capital punishment blast back What you tumblin', trash rappers who mumblin' for respect I'm uncheckable, wide open, the foul technical Go full press, I still glide like Clyde Drexler do I'm done testin' two times over, I'll get the best of you Better pay attention, two eyes open wide when I execute And I been waiting so long that you asked for this You try to give me your table scraps, I'ma give you my ass to kiss I won't even wait for the death, you'll get faded right after this A masochist who ready to face the masses like Catholics And you can tell the whole school I'm prepped for the glory In the presence of your professor, attendance is mandatory With a weapon, freshman semester You test the mess and get gory I'm just here to kill the game, let the messenger tell the story Now let's begin Now let's begin Arms in the sky, I'm feeling angel high (High, high) Funk got me sanctified (Funk got me sanctified) Sent to the light, come save your soul tonight Funk got me sanctified (Uh-huh, oh) Funk got me sanctified (Sanctified, uh-oh) Funk got me sanctified (Oh, oh) Arms in the sky, I'm feeling angel high (Arms in the sky, I'm feeling) Funk got me sanctified (Funk got me sanctified) Sent to the light, come save your soul tonight Funk got me sanctified (Oh)
Writer(s): Mark Williams, Travis Franklyn Mendes, Jonathan David Bellion, Robert Diggs, Raul Ignacio Cubina, Rakheim Meyer, Hakim Hardy, Mylon Hyde, Aaron Dales Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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