Credits
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Suave Mahomes
Songwriter:in
Lyrics
I don't gotta prove nothing to nobody
Only myself
When I'm out New York
I'm fuckin wit RX
Like he don't sleep leave his head on a armrest
Rule number 1 don't trap where ya moms at
Fuck all the dissin I'm sendin out bomb threats
Fuck all the dissin I load the pistol up
Sat on my lap she got the Missile up
Don't care where I'm at i got my shit tucked
Countin up racks i gotta Papercut
I do not
I do not hang wit these **** they folding like shit
Pack like craig wit a brick
Top of the line she top of the list
Top of the morning I'm makin a hit
Yea **** just tryna get rich
**** get bagged and cry like a bitch
Bro got bagged I'm coming wit blick
You just a man in the middle
Bet on myself **** Calvin Ridley
Why do my opps turn to a chimney
I'm in the club high like the ceiling
She wanna neck me that's appealing
Say you down bad damn i kno the feeling
What's in the air your man's we grilling
Cup half filled i don't wanna spill it
I remember servin pills ****
Brody said you gotta chill ****
Member when I used to steal ****
That was back when i was lil ****
Hard times don't last baby
Too high can't crash
Uh i been thinking bout the cash
Bro retired from the mask
When I'm out New York
I'm fuckin wit rx
Like he don't sleep leave his head on a armrest
Rule number 1 don't trap where ya moms at
Fuck all the dissin I'm sendin out bomb threats
Fuck all the dissin I load the pistol up
Sat on my lap she got the Missile up
Don't care where I'm at i got my shit tucked
Countin up racks i gotta Papercut
I do not
I do not hang wit these **** they folding like shit
Pack like craig wit a brick
Top of the line she top of the list
Top of the morning I'm makin a hit
Yea **** just tryna get rich
**** get bagged and cry like a bitch
Bro got bagged I'm coming wit blick
Written by: Suave Mahomes
