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Credits

AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
BROCKHAMPTON
BROCKHAMPTON
Künstler:in
Goldwash
Goldwash
Klavier
Jabari Manwarring
Jabari Manwarring
Begleitgesang
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Matthew Champion
Matthew Champion
Komponist:in
Russell Boring
Russell Boring
Komponist:in
Ian Simpson
Ian Simpson
Komponist:in
Isaiah Merriweather
Isaiah Merriweather
Komponist:in
Romil Hemnani
Romil Hemnani
Komponist:in
Jabari Manwarring
Jabari Manwarring
Komponist:in
Baird Acheson
Baird Acheson
Komponist:in
Gabriel Acheson
Gabriel Acheson
Komponist:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Russell Boring
Russell Boring
Produzent:in
Goldwash
Goldwash
Zusätzliche:r Produzent:in
Romil Hemnani
Romil Hemnani
Aufnahmeingenieur:in
Jabari Manwarring
Jabari Manwarring
Produzent:in
Video Store
Video Store
Produzent:in
Baird Acheson
Baird Acheson
Produzent:in
Dom McLennon
Dom McLennon
Zusätzliche:r Produzent:in
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Mischtechniker:in
Curtis "Sircut" Bye
Curtis "Sircut" Bye
Mischtechniker:in
Jacob Bryant
Jacob Bryant
Ingenieurassistent:in
Mike Bozzi
Mike Bozzi
Mastering-Ingenieur:in

Lyrics

All-American self-hatred runs deep White boys all I see whenever I sleep Niggas think I think these thoughts on purpose But I knew 'bout NSYNC 'fore cash could rule me Colonized minds by masters and slaves They both hate niggas, that like niggas that sing Homophobic, I tried to gang-bang I tried to get laid, I had to get paid Hopped off the ship, I land on my feet In Corpus Christi I got my own street Running this shit like it's a track meet I had to go back home, I seen too many niggas die in a week Now get my dawgs black wealth, let 'em live well What a miracle we dreamed a million stories to tell You are now tuned in, baby to the new classic New machine, keep the beats, keep 'em dancing Don't shoot up the party Don't shoot up the party, please Please, don't shoot up the party Don't shoot up the party, please Please, don't shoot up the party Don't shoot up my party, please Please (please, please), please (please, please) This a jam for your whims and your woes For the people in the back standin' on they tippy-toes Don't give a damn what the journalist wrote Always dead inside like they in the catacombs On the prowl like a lion in the storm Watchin' for the prey that might slit his throat It's about time that I let your ass know Ya'll deserved the guillotine even more (oh, oh) Kiss my ass, treat my balls like it's mistletoe Fuck class, get cash by the truckload Latest album with my dawgs, but the city closed You in for a hell of a ride (oh, oh) This a good time, know I'm damn right Order every single bottle of the best wine Fuck your final, need it all though Dedicate this to my family in Chicago Stay down, I'm sorry Stay down, you're ugly (oh, oh) The people need more than money These white people don't love me (oh, oh) Stay down, I'm sorry Stay down, I'm hungry (oh, oh) Don't need you to love me Fuck you, come fuck me I know Don't shoot up the party Don't shoot up the party, please Please, don't shoot up the party Don't shoot up the party, please Please, don't shoot up the party Don't shoot up my party, please Please (please, please), please (please, please) What's the issue? Why you gotta grab that pistol? Think about who gon' miss you Never know what I been through What's the issue? Why you gotta grab that pistol? Think about who gon' miss you Never know what they might do Don't shoot up the party, don't shoot up the p- Do you really wanna try to step to? Do you really wanna try to step to? Oh, yeah
Writer(s): Isaiah Merriweather, Matthew Garrett Champion, Ciaran Mcdonald, Romil Hemnani, Ian Simpson, Jabari Manwarring, Baird Robert Wittner Acheson, Russell Evan Boring, Gabriel Acheson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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