Released: March 30, 2018
Featuring: Kehlani
Songwriter: London Jae Kehlani B.o.B
Producer: B.o.B
[Verse 1: Kehlani]
Boardin the plain with a backpack
Nerves on 10 cause it's loud pack
Back to the east, with a pound of the purp in a sutecase, yeah, you know I got that
Hope the TSA don't smell that
Don't take my shit, I gotta sell that
We don't eat if I don't break bread, I'm survin that juggin, baby, don't you get that?
Big homie call from the city
Said he's looking to get lifted
Said "I got what you need"
Never expected a young thing like me to be moving
You know I got that flame
Straight from the O, it's so new, ain't even got a name
Shit's so strong, it ain't even got a name
Just know I got that loud
[Verse 2: London Jae]
Sell me something
She only smoke a few
I hit it
I ain't tryna pop a perk
How you living?
Did I mention that you can get the bag to me?
Lil baby, right in the city
Trap and trappin, doin numbers
Got a bad ass plug, straight from Benny Honna
She lay them bags on the boy
Bring them out
2500 bags of gass, that be a lot
[Verse 3: Kehlani]
Big homie said that he loved it
Traided pounds of loud for them buckets
And the trap is real, and it really go down, and I can make it seem like I love it
See I don't speak on shit that ain't something
And I don't write no song with no substance
And it ain't no way that I know what I say, and I flip some shit like it's nothing
Mommy, hollar when you done fflexing
If you come up here, it's a blessing
Got my head to the sky, cause you know that I'm forever finessing
Boy, stop with all that talking
I can tell by the way you walking
That you ain't been a thug, and you never sold drugs, you a petty nigga, quit flossing
I got loud
[Verse 4: London Jae]
You know how they do
You get money bitch, I do too
I don't know about you, but your name, I do
That fresh, that frost, nigga, shame on you
That's a whole nother issue
Baby, back to the money
Tryna stack me up some hundreds
Fuck up some kommas
Got a million on my mind,already worth a couple hundred
Do the numbers
Balling hard all summer
I keep that loud, Magic City
Numbers on point, you fuckin with me
2 grams in the trunk, fuckin with me
My bad, the pounds, I had to hit it
Shot of Patrone, before I hit the road
Ever since, a motherfucker stick to the coad
Got them all off, now I'm on my way back
Countin it all up in my new Benz, I'm straight up
Getting money bitch, Atlanta shit
Plug in real life, showing all these niggas ain't a damb thing funny
Boardin the plain with a backpack
Nerves on 10 cause it's loud pack
Back to the east, with a pound of the purp in a sutecase, yeah, you know I got that
Hope the TSA don't smell that
Don't take my shit, I gotta sell that
We don't eat if I don't break bread, I'm survin that juggin, baby, don't you get that?
Big homie call from the city
Said he's looking to get lifted
Said "I got what you need"
Never expected a young thing like me to be moving
You know I got that flame
Straight from the O, it's so new, ain't even got a name
Shit's so strong, it ain't even got a name
Just know I got that loud
[Verse 2: London Jae]
Sell me something
She only smoke a few
I hit it
I ain't tryna pop a perk
How you living?
Did I mention that you can get the bag to me?
Lil baby, right in the city
Trap and trappin, doin numbers
Got a bad ass plug, straight from Benny Honna
She lay them bags on the boy
Bring them out
2500 bags of gass, that be a lot
[Verse 3: Kehlani]
Big homie said that he loved it
Traided pounds of loud for them buckets
And the trap is real, and it really go down, and I can make it seem like I love it
See I don't speak on shit that ain't something
And I don't write no song with no substance
And it ain't no way that I know what I say, and I flip some shit like it's nothing
Mommy, hollar when you done fflexing
If you come up here, it's a blessing
Got my head to the sky, cause you know that I'm forever finessing
Boy, stop with all that talking
I can tell by the way you walking
That you ain't been a thug, and you never sold drugs, you a petty nigga, quit flossing
I got loud
[Verse 4: London Jae]
You know how they do
You get money bitch, I do too
I don't know about you, but your name, I do
That fresh, that frost, nigga, shame on you
That's a whole nother issue
Baby, back to the money
Tryna stack me up some hundreds
Fuck up some kommas
Got a million on my mind,already worth a couple hundred
Do the numbers
Balling hard all summer
I keep that loud, Magic City
Numbers on point, you fuckin with me
2 grams in the trunk, fuckin with me
My bad, the pounds, I had to hit it
Shot of Patrone, before I hit the road
Ever since, a motherfucker stick to the coad
Got them all off, now I'm on my way back
Countin it all up in my new Benz, I'm straight up
Getting money bitch, Atlanta shit
Plug in real life, showing all these niggas ain't a damb thing funny