More songs by YoungBoy Never Broke Again
Description
Programmer, Producer: K10Beatz
Programmer, Producer: Sauceboy
Mixing Engineer, Programmer, Producer, Recording Engineer, Mastering Engineer: Henry 8
Rapvocalist: YoungBoy Never Broke Again
A& R: Kenoe Jordan
Aand Radministrator: LaKia Smith
Aand Radministrator: Sean Aitro
Aand Radministrator: Steve Cook
Composer Lyricist: Kentrell Gaulden
Composer Lyricist: Kyler Mathis
Composer Lyricist: Kalim Pryce
Composer Lyricist: Henry Bingham
Lyrics and translation
Original
Livin' la vida loca. Sellin' eight grams of the coca.
-Oh, kid! -I cannot serve you if I don't know y'all.
I'ma do what I go do and I need you to hold me down.
We gon' cop three fifty-twos and then go shopping out of town.
And everything I tell you, bae, I swear I really live it. Racing modifications on a Maserati engine.
From the block, how we came out, now I'm just looking at those now.
Check the timing on my watch, I think my moment be right now. I been tryna speak your love language.
Fans need need drops. All the fiends need drugs. Channel need knobs. Perfect perfection.
Feelin' on your waist, so I caress it.
I been begging you to come this way, you been making me feel real neglected.
I'm a gangsta, I don't like to play, I'm known on strict shit, this is me.
Send me a text, bitch, you'll get your shit bust up in the street. I'm a dirty bitch, I walk around with that pink thing.
Shawty know that I'm a dog, she wanna come with me and breed.
She wanna go a second round, but I lay down, I'm all legs. I was selling crumbs to the bums, writing the songs,
American dream. I was swerving here and there, gotta watch me myself.
On my way, I took a thirty with my car in my belt.
She ain't understanding so she worried, all this pain I felt. I end up dying in the street, I'll never make it out of here.
I been sitting here looking, Lord, hoping I'll find out how a nigga feel.
And I been loving, I been missing you so long. I hope that you are happy wherever you are.
Dollars and deaths. You can draw the package if you willing.
You know that little nigga that be popping wheelies. Hit up with you like he gated.
Gangsta bitches met her in the city.
Real authentic, all these problems that we facing, altercations, racing. I promise I cut her off, I see she faking.
I ain't tryna get put to sleep, my dreads swing in the streets in Jamaica.
Not a Rasta, the pot with the bomb card, I'll show 'em something later.
Brother Smith, they feel it in R. I. , boy dumb hater.
You're just a rookie, bitch, and you'll get sent to your fucking maker. I'ma do what I go do and I need you to hold me down.
We gon' cop three fifty-twos and then go shopping out of town.
And everything I tell you, bae, I swear I really live it. Racing modifications on a Maserati engine.
It's a wild, wild life that I'm living, I'm living.
It's a wild, wild life that I'm living, I'm living. Giving all my life to the living, the living.
It's a wild, wild life that I'm living, I'm living. C'est la vida, kumbaya.
Maya, Maya.
I'm not sharp, I'm not like Miss Keeler. I just want reefer.
Shit's bad, we live, we live like a reaper. Dollars and deaths.
Come check it out. Come on, come on, check it out. Nigga get they ass killed, boy.
Vida.
South Boy shit.
Play kid, stay bitch.