Music Video

Don Toliver - Private Landing (Sped Up) (feat. Justin Bieber & Future)
Watch Don Toliver - Private Landing (Sped Up) (feat. Justin Bieber & Future) on YouTube

Featured In

Credits

AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Future
Future
Stimme und Gesang
Justin Bieber
Justin Bieber
Stimme und Gesang
Don Toliver
Don Toliver
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

Lyrics

I'm feelin' stuck (feelin' stuck) I'm off a bean (yeah), like, what the fuck? (What the fuck?) I'm in the tree (tree), she holler up (holler up) What you need? (What you need?) Got it up (ooh-ooh) I don't know why these hoes can't stand me I guess I'm too demanding Wanna hit the double coke, the candy (candy) I'm so high, no landing (landing) Keepin' that Glock grip steady (steady) Rockin' this shit, confetti (confetti) They all let it go on the telly (telly) They all wanna rub my belly I got my dawgs out, I'm poppin' at the Ritz (at the-) I got 'em comin' in, shit look like a blitz (look like a-) She wanna check me up, she wanna check my fit (check my) 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 O, call, better call me Randy 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 (hmm) 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 mink) Sellin' out arenas, I just murked the streets (the streets) Coppin' a brand-new castle in the Middle East (woo, yeah) My bitch sit Indian style when we sit down and eat (woo) I could do this shit, one take, but my style ain't free (woo, 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 (ah, yeah) She mop it down the best, I can't feel my leg (my leg, I swear) I done sniped off your ho for a crumb of bread (ho) Got racks goin' out the roof, they bustin' through the ceilin' (racks) My new bitch, she the truth, showed me a couple million (Freebandz) All on your body, like I'm I'm feelin' stuck (feelin' stuck) I'm off a bean (yeah), like, what the fuck? (What the fuck?) I'm in the tree (tree), she holler up (holler up) What you need? (What you need?) Got it up (ooh-ooh, yeah) Mm, keep goin', mm (oh-yeah) Keep goin', keep goin' (mm-hmm) Keep goin', keep goin' Mm, keep goin', keep goin' Mm, keep goin', keep goin' Mm, go, go Mm, keep goin', keep goin' Mm, 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) She wanna come this way, uh (come on) Heat it up, microwave (microwave) Heat it up, mic-, what, what? She wanna ride my wave She wanna come this way (she wanna) 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 (in Miami) I guess I'll keep my candy, I guess I'm too demanding She wanna ride my wave, she wanna rock my chain Heat it up, microwave, come on, I'll share my plate (come on) She wanna ride my wave, she wanna ride my train Heat it up, microwave, come here, and share my plate I'm feelin' stuck (feelin' stuck) I'm off a bean (yeah), like, what the fuck? (What the fuck?) I'm in the tree (tree), she holler up (holler up) What you need? (What you need?) Got it up (yeah)
Writer(s): Justin Bieber, Nayvadius Wilburn, Caleb Zackery Toliver, Derek Ryan Anderson, Omar Rayan Guetfa, Robert Clark Bisel, Ronald Nathan Latour Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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