Released: June 14, 2019
Featuring: Young Thug
Songwriter: Pi’erre Bourne Lil Keed Young Thug
Producer: Pi’erre Bourne
[Intro: Lil Keed]
Yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Woo
[Verse 1: Lil Keed]
They think they all fly (Yeah), we a different fly (Yeah)
Yeah, we private flight it (Yeah), no need for autopilot (Yeah)
Know we get the highest (Yeah), know y'all all dyin' (Yeah)
Lift the doors up (Yeah), my wrist is froze up (Yeah)
My neck get colder (Yeah), thought I told ya (Yeah)
We in the fast lane (Yeah)
In a Hellcat (Yeah), or in a Mulsanne (Yeah)
If he bounce back (Yeah), a hundred shots ring (Yeah)
Ain't got no dogtag (Yeah), how you gangbang? (Yeah)
He not 'bout that (Yeah), he ain't insane (Yeah)
Give him thirty shots (Yeah), shoot him Curry range (Yeah)
Finger flooded (Yeah), cost more than Audi rings (Yeah)
Yeah, we bossy (Yeah), shit be saucy (Yeah)
[Verse 2: Young Thug]
Cosey
You said you want a wedding ring, that's when you lost me (Lost me)
Go big on big, I'm irritated with your mouthpiece
I drove a G63 Benz to the nosebleeds (Skrrt)
Yeah, I'm her boss, see, see I'm so flossy
Lil' mama said she want a Benz with the Rolls seats (Want a Benz)
I took a helicopter down to the show freak
I told her private jet, we goin' shoppin' overseas
I can go brazy like a shotta, ayy (Brazy like a)
I got some masons on the Southside, ayy (I got some masons on the South)
I'm servin' chicken, but not Popeyes, ayy (I'm servin' chicken, but not Pop')
Pay the tuition, not a shotta, ayy (Pay the tuition, not a shotta)
I told lil' mama, "Bitch, it's our time," ayy (Our time)
We got the juice, we got the Wi-Fi, ayy (Wi-Fi)
We fuckin' on top our Carter, hey
I just might pass her to my brothers, hey (Just might pass her to my brothers)
Hundred bands on a seat (Hundred)
How the fuck I make a half a million in a week? (How? How? How?)
Yeah, shawty suck me out my sleep
I don't know just how the hell I woke up with a freak (How? How?)
Goddamn, I got millions with no piece (Damn)
Different bustdown every fuckin' day of the week (Fuckin' day of the week)
Livin' easy breezy, we fuck on designer sheets (Woo)
I had me some Henny with my Act', now I'm deceased (I'm deceased, nigga)
Million dollar nig', whip a Maybach out of town (Skrrt, skrrt)
Patek worth a mink, up in the Benz right now (Skrrt, skrrt)
Keep designer kicks on my bitch all the time (Skrrt, skrrt)
Paris Hilton mansion in the hills, I see stars (Skrrt, skrrt)
Abercrombie birds with the doves, we get money (Skrrt, skrrt)
Lambo' hit the curb, when it dark, it look sunny (Skrrt, skrrt)
I put neon lights in the penthouse for my mommy (Skrrt, skrrt)
Wake up, take a piss, drink a seal every morning
[Verse 3: Lil Keed]
Spendin' all these goddamn funds
I just put some slimes and some bands on your son
Choker shackles outshine the goddamn sun
John Wick shooters, we not scared of James Bond (Woo)
Talkin' game to get out her panties
Different Chanel, different occasions
I got hood ratchet shit and she Asian
Whippin' slime Lam' truck, it's Caucasian
Y'all cat, Tigger
See y'all damn whiskers
Her ass soft as pillows
Give her nut like brittle
Louis duffle bag, F&N and bands in it
Yeah, I wore it, left the tag on my expensive drip
She not talkin' bad, I go pimp and pop them lips
[Outro: Lil Keed]
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
Oh, oh, oh
Yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Woo
[Verse 1: Lil Keed]
They think they all fly (Yeah), we a different fly (Yeah)
Yeah, we private flight it (Yeah), no need for autopilot (Yeah)
Know we get the highest (Yeah), know y'all all dyin' (Yeah)
Lift the doors up (Yeah), my wrist is froze up (Yeah)
My neck get colder (Yeah), thought I told ya (Yeah)
We in the fast lane (Yeah)
In a Hellcat (Yeah), or in a Mulsanne (Yeah)
If he bounce back (Yeah), a hundred shots ring (Yeah)
Ain't got no dogtag (Yeah), how you gangbang? (Yeah)
He not 'bout that (Yeah), he ain't insane (Yeah)
Give him thirty shots (Yeah), shoot him Curry range (Yeah)
Finger flooded (Yeah), cost more than Audi rings (Yeah)
Yeah, we bossy (Yeah), shit be saucy (Yeah)
[Verse 2: Young Thug]
Cosey
You said you want a wedding ring, that's when you lost me (Lost me)
Go big on big, I'm irritated with your mouthpiece
I drove a G63 Benz to the nosebleeds (Skrrt)
Yeah, I'm her boss, see, see I'm so flossy
Lil' mama said she want a Benz with the Rolls seats (Want a Benz)
I took a helicopter down to the show freak
I told her private jet, we goin' shoppin' overseas
I can go brazy like a shotta, ayy (Brazy like a)
I got some masons on the Southside, ayy (I got some masons on the South)
I'm servin' chicken, but not Popeyes, ayy (I'm servin' chicken, but not Pop')
Pay the tuition, not a shotta, ayy (Pay the tuition, not a shotta)
I told lil' mama, "Bitch, it's our time," ayy (Our time)
We got the juice, we got the Wi-Fi, ayy (Wi-Fi)
We fuckin' on top our Carter, hey
I just might pass her to my brothers, hey (Just might pass her to my brothers)
Hundred bands on a seat (Hundred)
How the fuck I make a half a million in a week? (How? How? How?)
Yeah, shawty suck me out my sleep
I don't know just how the hell I woke up with a freak (How? How?)
Goddamn, I got millions with no piece (Damn)
Different bustdown every fuckin' day of the week (Fuckin' day of the week)
Livin' easy breezy, we fuck on designer sheets (Woo)
I had me some Henny with my Act', now I'm deceased (I'm deceased, nigga)
Million dollar nig', whip a Maybach out of town (Skrrt, skrrt)
Patek worth a mink, up in the Benz right now (Skrrt, skrrt)
Keep designer kicks on my bitch all the time (Skrrt, skrrt)
Paris Hilton mansion in the hills, I see stars (Skrrt, skrrt)
Abercrombie birds with the doves, we get money (Skrrt, skrrt)
Lambo' hit the curb, when it dark, it look sunny (Skrrt, skrrt)
I put neon lights in the penthouse for my mommy (Skrrt, skrrt)
Wake up, take a piss, drink a seal every morning
[Verse 3: Lil Keed]
Spendin' all these goddamn funds
I just put some slimes and some bands on your son
Choker shackles outshine the goddamn sun
John Wick shooters, we not scared of James Bond (Woo)
Talkin' game to get out her panties
Different Chanel, different occasions
I got hood ratchet shit and she Asian
Whippin' slime Lam' truck, it's Caucasian
Y'all cat, Tigger
See y'all damn whiskers
Her ass soft as pillows
Give her nut like brittle
Louis duffle bag, F&N and bands in it
Yeah, I wore it, left the tag on my expensive drip
She not talkin' bad, I go pimp and pop them lips
[Outro: Lil Keed]
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
Oh, oh, oh