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Credits
AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Teezo Touchdown
Zusätzlicher Gesang
Don Toliver
Stimme und Gesang
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Aaron Thomas
Songwriter:in
Bryan Yepes
Songwriter:in
Caleb Toliver
Songwriter:in
Carlos Muñoz
Songwriter:in
Christopher Ruelas
Songwriter:in
Derek “206derek” Anderson
Songwriter:in
Douglas Ford
Songwriter:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Bryan Yepes
Produzent:in
Derek “206derek” Anderson
Aufnahmeingenieur:in
Joe LaPorta
Mastering-Ingenieur:in
Los Hendrix
Produzent:in
Nascent
Produzent:in
Lyrics
I met her last week (last week)
Slidin' through the cold backstreets
I don't know you, but you knowin' me (knowin' me)
I saw you put away your foreign key (foreign key, yeah, can I?)
Can I get your number? (Number)
And I'ma hit you up
We can link all summer and go and fuck it up
Girl, you got me drunk, I need it in a rush
Can you fuck it up?
Can you fuck it up?
Can you fuck it up? Yeah
Can you fuck it up? (Baby, can you?)
Take you out of town, girl, can you fuck it up?
I'ma take you 'round, girl, I'ma fuck it up (baby, I'ma)
Hit you from the back in my Maybach truck
Can you fuck it up?
Want me to be your Backstreet Boy, girl, let's get in sync
You don't wanna know what you need, locked up in a Maybach seat
And I'm ridin' with my piece, beat the pussy up, R.I.P
But don't hold back, baby, unleash
You was splashin', it ain't no lease
Took enough time off, where you goin'? Where you been?
Lifestyle full of sins, but you heaven-sent, oh
You know who to come to when you feel it all cave in
When you know you need savin', I'm the one you put your faith in
Let you heat the summer, chain cold just like winter
Real trees just like timber, need a band that match my tempo
Glad I kept your info, backseat, tryna see what it's hittin' for
Grab tight, hold on like a leash, ah
Know the life I live ain't simple
I can't help myself, girl, I need your help
Cooking that special, this ain't self-serve
See the cops over by the light, hit it by the next turn
Runnin' back, let me do it for you, ain't no pressure
I met her last week (last week)
Slidin' through the cold backstreets
I don't know you, but you knowin' me (knowin' me)
I saw you put away your foreign key (foreign key, yeah, can I?)
Can I get your number? (Number)
And I'ma hit you up
We can link all summer and go and fuck it up
Girl, you got me drunk, I need it in a rush
Can you fuck it up?
Can you fuck it up?
Can you fuck it up? Yeah
Can you fuck it up? (Bet you can't)
Take you out of town, girl, can you fuck it up?
I'ma take you 'round, girl, I'ma fuck it up (baby, I'ma)
Hit you from the back in my Maybach truck (oh, oh, oh, baby)
Can you fuck it up, girl, can you fuck it up? (Baby, can you? Mm)
Take you out of town, girl, can you fuck it up? (Oh, baby)
I'ma take you 'round girl, I'ma fuck it up (Baby, I'ma)
Hit you from the back in my Maybach truck (oh, oh, oh, baby)
Can you fuck it up?
Writer(s): Derek Anderson, Bryan Yepes, Carlos Daniel Munoz, Christopher Ruelas, Caleb Zackery Toliver, Aaron Thomas, Douglas Ford
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