More songs by SosMula
Description
Producer: Lucian
Producer: 61st Street
Mixer, Studio Personnel, Mastering Engineer: Jay-P Gallo
Associated Performer, Vocals: SosMula
A& R: Mel Carter
A& R: Amina Diop
Composer Lyricist: Vinicius Sosa
Composer Lyricist: Stefan Cismigiu
Composer Lyricist: Keenan Thomas Harlan pka 61st Street
Lyrics and translation
Original
You gotta cry boy, gotta die it's my choice, never shootin' high points.
Damn, my fuckin' weed man outside. Fuck! Clean up crew. Fuckin' bitch!
Why you gotta cry boy?
Gotta die it's my choice, never shootin' high points, shoot you off your high horse. Million dollars liquid, you can send it through the invoice.
Pent stick extended, it be hangin' out the Rolls Royce. Why am I annoyed?
All these people I employ. Brick of coke in the pandemic, forty-five points.
Lot of other business ventures, this a side joint. All this money that I get can't even buy joy.
Sneezy! I shoot and they don't miss, uh, ooh ain't that a bitch, uh. Bulletproof,
I'm actin' rich, uh.
Hula hoop a half a brick, uh. TSA with the stick, uh. My pursuit to happiness, uh. Make a plug through my
Guatemala Spanish bitch, uh.
Tom Cruise Vanilla Sky, off the bridge I'm hella high. Revolution, boom boom, go be televised.
Tears, wipe my tears with the hundred dollar bills. Why you gotta cry boy?
Gotta die it's my choice, never shootin' high points, shoot you off your high horse.
Million dollars liquid, you can send it through the invoice. Pent stick extended, it be hangin' out the
Rolls Royce. Why am I annoyed? All these people I employ.
Brick of coke in the pandemic, forty-five points. Lot of other business ventures, this a side joint.
All this money that I get can't even buy joy. Sneezy!