Baby Man

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Lyrics

(Y'all ain't fucking with no real niggas man)
 (We ain't never been petty) oh
 (Really got this shit out the mud for real) mm
 (We ain't gonna talk about it too much) 'ight
 ('Cause niggas know we really getting them bags in for real)
 You the Artist nigga
 (East side, Fifty ride) this that one shit
 (Big squad) you sound like me, I ain't 'gon lie
 (Kill it baby bro)
 Whatchu saying over here? Huh
 Who would've fuckin' thought?
 I coulda fuckin' bought
 (We got this bitch in a head lock) mm, yay nigga
 Bay niggaaa!!
 Who would've fuckin' thought?
 I coulda fuckin' bought
 A motherfuckin' house, but I spent it all on soft
 Who would've fuckin' thought?
 I be in LA running bitches in the loft
 I'ma fuckin' boss
 Bitches know I ram shit, that boy 150
 When my pockets f'ed up, my shit Fendi
 When the opps pockets f'ed up, that shit empty
 My old bitches know I'm blessed up, I'm up 50
 Let's hit the road for a living, fuck it
 Nah, let's pimp hoes for a livin', fuck it
 You know what? Let's sell 'bows for a livin' fuck it
 If a nigga touch me, it's gon' get ugly, trust me
 I have my different niggas, pop him in his nugget
 I finally know how it feels to throw through a hunnid
 I ran my first ten up, knew I was up to somethin'
 I was in tailors to tuck it, I know my junkies love me
 I got enough on me in the booth
 Right now to get a nigga gone
 Dawg thinks he's safe in this field?
 Coach send that nigga home
 West side nigga, I be good, chilling in the zone
 My sisters friends wouldn't let me fuck, baby, now I'm grown
 My old bitch said I wasn't shit
 Welp, now she gone
 My nigga be bearing dope out there flip without his pole
 He'll put a grip on, it'll knock you out his soul
 I'll laugh at happy quaint, knock a nigga out his clothes
 Real nigga, but eye jab 'n sock a nigga out his pros
 Balmain my jeans, nah, I used to rock the joes
 I can't believe what I just seen on the low
 School ran a hunnid up in one week on my soul
 I just got to fly to the crib put the money in (what else?)
 Back to enterprise, get a rental, 'bout to rent it up (what else?)
 We ain't going back to the crib 'til we a hunnid up (okay)
 See my brother touch a 50 strip then she fucked me up (okay)
 Nigga, this how we live, we don't cap 'bout nothin'
 Maybe if you leave the crib, you can rap 'bout somethin'
 Nigga, this how we live, boy (ay)
 I could get used to this shit (mm)
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
02:14
Key
5
Tempo
114 BPM

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