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Credits
AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Rome Streetz
Leadgesang
Conductor Williams
Programmierung
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Jerome Allen
Songwriter:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Rome Streetz
Aufnahmeingenieur:in
Conductor Williams
Produzent:in
Chad "KM" Kitchens
Mischtechniker:in
Dave Cooley
Mastering-Ingenieur:in
Lyrics
Uh, uh (What the fuck)
Uh
Ayo
Diamonds in a long cable, Palm Angels
Firearm spray you, make pay and pray everyday
I'll smoke anyone on your label (You **** trash)
This pure cocaine, your shit K2
I married the game, got a 'K and a tailor made suit (Uh-huh)
Racin' the Mercedes, space coupe, I'm red-linin' (Skrrt)
Everything aligned, you can say it's divine timin'
On time, when he gave me one twenty-five on consignment (That work)
I bagged it up on a cover of Vibe, crime was the assignment
Keep a Glock, culture cipher, my mind on refinement
My white boy'll light you **** up like Luka Dončić (Boom, boom, boom)
Rock the low high tech suits, sellin' users product
My shoes is Prada, losers got nada wins in mi casa (None)
Was told to hold your own and God'll bless you
Prayed to our father, but, he was never there to encourage my next move
Figured it out, now I'm superior
My North Face x Supreme Denim Tear jeans, next to me you're inferior (Uh-huh)
Got my funds servin' up all the fiends in the area
Designer drugs, I sniffed a big line off the mirror up
Bottom-feeder bum ass **** never compare to us
They always be trapped, solo and even when y'all pairin' up (Y'all **** washed)
The kicks I wear a rack a pair and up
It's deeper than rap, we racketeers at wrappin' squares, ain't no fear in us
Made some paper, but, I swear to God, it's nowhere near enough (Nah)
Tryna run it up like Warren Buffet, Elon Musk (Uh-huh)
All Rothschild, New York's foul, get knocked off for talk
A brick of soft, a broad, gang shit, all fall out
Actions speak louder, the softest **** is all mouth
Got more plugs than a power strip, I never saw drought (Never)
Golden trap phone and a rapper head on my wall mount
This the crack they smokin' until they teeth fall out (Haha)
Ninety-nine attributes the other one is God (God, ****)
I trapped for loot, they thought I wouldn't ever make it far (Fuck you)
I went from back of the paddy wagon to foreign cars (Skrrt)
Life is ill, hundred-dollar bills cover my scars
Written by: Jerome Allen