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Credits
AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
DDG
Künstler:in
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Darryl Granberry, Jr.
Songwriter:in
Devin Miller
Songwriter:in
Joshua Luellen
Songwriter:in
Nayvadius Wilburn
Songwriter:in
Ugur Tig
Songwriter:in
Jonathan Michael Porter
Songwriter:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Devislit
Produzent:in
Brandon Harding
Aufnahmeingenieur:in
Eddie Rosa
Mischtechniker:in
Juan
Mastering-Ingenieur:in
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Ballin' since I was a jit
Way before Oakland and filmin' the skits
I had a goal to get rich
Mama was strugglin' paying the rent
I couldn't help her with shit
Hate that I'm feelin' so stuck in this bitch
Car broke down, can't fix that shit
I cried at night, I'll admit that shit
02', old, I'll whip that bitch
She left me 'lone but I miss that bitch
If she text right now, I'll hit that bitch
Old friends like "How you get that lit?"
Same old me but they think I switched
Fuck old friends, I don't know that bitch
Racks too big, can't fold that shit
I ain't get nuttin' when I owned that shit
Mama, I told you we gon' be okay
Whippin' that Benz and she live in L.A.
Tryna thank God but don't know what to say
Lot of square footage where DDG stay
Bought it in August, I'm movin' in May
Hop out the foreigns and black is my race
No, it's not rented, it's facts in the bank
[Verse 2]
Spent four hunnid on beanies, easy
She want dick, she needy, freaky
I like Wraiths, no Lamborghini
She off X, she sleepy, sleepy (Yeah)
Make me a wish no genie, genie
Vanish on **** just like Houdini
[Verse 3]
Mmm, I feel like Michael Jackson
Moonwalking through the Calabasas
Louis bag, gotta hold the ratchet
Just in case a **** want some action
Mmm, got some millions but it's just a fraction
Spendin' money for my satisfaction
Benjamin's, we don't fuck with Jackson's
[Verse 4]
Back when I dropped, they don't post that shit (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
All good though, I'ma note that shit
When I blow you'll owe me bitch
Humble ass **** but I know I'm rich (Yeah, rich ass fuck)
Fuck that shit, I know I'm lit
If we beef, I fuck your bitch
All of the **** I beef on the internet
I hit up all of they bitches and get 'em wet
Call her a Uber, I hit 'em and send 'em back
Do it in silence, 'cause players' ain't in to that
No, oh, I hit his bitch on the low, oh
She said your dick game was so-so
And she had told me your bro-oke (That's tough)
I got a blicky, it sit on my hip because L.A. is tricky
They tryna come get me
Bought some Balenci's, they don't even fit me
They 950, but fuck it, no biggie
I'm with a bitty she tryna get busy
She kiss on my neck but I told her no hickey
Tryna get with me, I told her she silly
She just for the night 'cause my bitch is too pretty
[Verse 5]
Spent four hunnid on beanies, easy
She want dick, she needy, freaky
I like Wraiths, no Lamborghini
She off X, she sleepy, sleepy (Yeah)
Make me a wish no genie, genie
Vanish on **** just like Houdini
[Verse 6]
Mmm, I feel like Michael Jackson
Moonwalking through the Calabasas
Louis bag, gotta hold the ratchet
Just in case a **** want some action
Mmm, got some millions but it's just a fraction
Spendin' money for my satisfaction
Benjamin's, we don't fuck with Jackson's
[Verse 7]
Benjamin's, we don't fuck with Jackson's
I feel like Michael Jackson
Moonwalking through the Calabasas
Written by: Darryl Granberry, Jr., Devin Miller, Joshua Luellen, Nayvadius Wilburn, Ugur Tig