Featured In

Credits

AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
IDK
IDK
Stimme und Gesang
Chief Keef
Chief Keef
Stimme und Gesang
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Daniel Worthy
Daniel Worthy
Komponist:in
J Rich
J Rich
Komponist:in
Jason Mills
Jason Mills
Komponist:in
Keith Cozart
Keith Cozart
Komponist:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Daniel Worthy
Daniel Worthy
Produzent:in
J Rich
J Rich
Zusätzliche:r Produzent:in
Lawrence Benjamin
Lawrence Benjamin
Aufnahmeingenieur:in
Eden Eliah Nagar
Eden Eliah Nagar
Aufnahmeingenieur:in
Maddox Chhim
Maddox Chhim
Aufnahmeingenieur:in

Lyrics

This that dirty stinkin nasty ratchet rowdy shit Young nigga wit a .38 (young nigga wit a 38) Young nigga wit a .38 (young nigga wit a 38) 17 with the .38 (17 with the .38) I was 17 with the .38 (17 with the .38) I was only 17 when I had that 38 I was trying to prove something Show em' that I didn't play If a nigga do me wrong, make him see the pearly gates Truth is, I ain't shoot shit, it was just for fake Truth is, I didn't do shit, but I rob white folk Lure they ass to a place I know Take they money, take they phone, there it goes Sell the shit at my school for the low Stack the money, stack the money, buy shoes Stack the money, stack the money, buy clothes Take the penitentiary wrist, all fold Ed Hardy belts with the rhinestone Hit the Georgetown (swerve) I got whores now (swerve) Polo wasn't Ralph (word) It's a horse now Slow down, slow down is what my mama said She couldn't get that shit through my head You can't expect me to give respect When I would fuck bitches on mama bed Young nigga wit a .38 (young nigga wit a 38) Young nigga wit a .38 (young nigga wit a 38) 17 with the .38 (17 with the .38) I was 17 with the .38 (17 with the--) Sosa baby I was 17 with a .357 Foot heavy, can't speed the limit All black ghost rider, I'm creeping in it Gotta be a real nigga, don't be pretending If I'm in it, then you know, it got reefa in it You don't see it nigga? I can re-present it Took a bitch life, and I'll re-invent it Can't leave without peeing in it Pants saggin, but this belt ain't cheap ayy ayy Got a swiper on me, nuthin' ain't free ayy ayy Would've bought the shit, but it ain't me ayy ayy Yeah, you down nigga, but it ain't steep ayy ayy And it's Humvee, me and the pack Throwing shells even if you can't catch it We gon test him even if he can't pass it I know you sending what we can't pass ayy ayy Little woadey run the bus Bust the clit, make it puss What's in me? It ain't trust It ain't gang, it ain't fuss Surf the wave, now it's brush You ain't got a nice function Know i'll run it up like she know Fredo in the cut Enough gears for some years Leave a bitch with a tear Leave a bitch for a year Leave a bitch in a mirror Send it, you got it, i'on see it as an error May storm in the club interfering with the weather Young nigga wit a .38 (young nigga wit a 38) Young nigga wit a .38 (young nigga wit a 38) 17 with the .38 (17 with the .38) I was 17 with the .38 (17 with the .38)
Writer(s): Dan Smith, Keith Cozart, Jordan Walker, Jason Mills Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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