Baby $hit (Explicit)

作曲 : Frederick J. Tipton/Alan D. Maman
作词 : Frederick J. Tipton
The world is uncivilized, and these are our works
Champ (What's up? What's up?)
James Brown, nicotine (Yo, yo)
C*caine (Okay, there we go, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Ayy, man, don't never f*ck with a n*gga that—
That don't get girls (Yeah, yeah)
The n*gga always gon' be jealous of you (Yeah)
I swear to God, on my mama, n*gga
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, ain't nobody ever gave me sh*t
I had to take this sh*t, go get your paper, b*tch
Rappin', potty trainin' every mornin', ho
I'm cookin' d*pe and cleanin' baby sh*t
Versace robe drapin' like a n*gga got a cape
But I can never save a b*tch
F*ckin' ball player baby mamas hit me
When them n*ggas play the Lakers, b*tch
We don't do no postin' or no name taggin'
California blow, she got a 'caine habit
I don't want the p*ssy if the gang had it
Was a ho before she got the same habit
Hold on, do no postin' or no name taggin'
D*pe and c*caine got my name brackin'
I don't sell a whip, I let the gang have it
Got a pocket full of dead slave masters (Yeah)
Get that white and I beat it up like I'm Mike
Drop a broke man, a n*gga can't be like Mike
Share the d*ck, man, a b*tch gotta sacrifice
Diamonds in my sh*t look like some flashin' lights
Presidential, I flooded that b*tch with ice
Cougar p*ssy, I f*ck a rich n*gga wife
Doja Cat let me hit from the byke, byke
Porsche engine, that b*tch in the byke, byke
Louie luggage, that sit in the front trunk
Uncle threw Forgiato on Dodge trucks
Throw VL out the window, I'm mobbed up
Hit that proper until that b*tch locked up
Dinner plate, my sh*t porcelain, rocked up
R.I.P Robert Davis, we chopped up
Screw a b*tch in the drop with the top up (With the top up)
Yeah, ain't nobody ever gave me sh*t, I had to take this sh*t
Go get your paper, b*tch
Flew a ho like 20 hours just to have a threesome with my new Australian b*tch
Versace robe drapin' like a n*gga got a cape, but I can never save a b*tch
Everyday I get an internet threat, boy, these n*ggas soft as baby sh*t
Give them 36's to my side piece
40 millimeter on the timepiece
Take a ho to brunch and get mimosa drunk
She give me sloppy toppy on massage seats
Keep them yucky b*tches from around me
Feel like Usher, ho, 'cause you remind me
Of a b*tch I used to f*ck with when I was broke but now my 750 got massage seats, uh
Get that white and I beat it up, like I'm Mike
Drop a broke man, a n*gga can't be like Mike
Share the d*ck, man, a b*tch gotta sacrifice
Diamonds in my sh*t look like some flashin' lights
Presidential, I flooded that b*tch with ice
Cougar p*ssy, I f*ck a rich n*gga wife
Doja Cat let me hit from the byke, byke
I'll be right back
Yeah, ain't nobody ever gave me sh*t, I had to take this sh*t
Go get your paper, b*tch
Rappin', potty trainin' every mornin', ho
I'm cookin' d*pe, be cleanin' baby sh*t
Versace robe drapin' like a n*gga got a cape, but I can never save a b*tch
The streets is tryna judge a n*ggas music
Tell the p*ssy n*ggas suck a baby d*ck, b*tch
Yeah, yeah yeah
(Nothin' else to say, b*tch, gang)
(Yeah, yeah)
You know why I love to sell a ton of drugs in Harlem, Bumpy?
It's not 'cause of the money, why?
'Cause every miserable street junkie
Every skinny who goes to bed hungry because his momma is workin' for a fix
Every n*gga baby born with a "habit"
Makes me happy, makes my heart sing