Wheezy outta here Yeah, rest in peace to Bankroll, show 'em how to do it Baby goin' crazy, he been gettin' straight to it I done caught so many flights I end up fuckin' all the stewardesses Catch me in Atlanta, no security with my jewelry Found all them rings, my baby mama talkin' suin' me Nother bitch tellin' lies on the pussy like she screwin' me Catch him down bad, that's his ass, nigga, you or me SL diamonds on the chain, he ain't foolin' me We was skippin' school on the train, duckin' truancy My main partner turned into a rat, he talkin' 'bout Rod and me I pray the judge give that boy a bond so I can pop him We was in the hood, sellin' bags, shroom, trap exotic Fucked around and tried to go and lease a helicopter Baby really a problem, somebody gotta stop him And the haters watchin' too hard, I think they got binoculars Every nigga with me on go, it ain't no stoppin' us Niggas actin' like they got the bag, I'm tryna stop it up Do this for the bros down the road, gotta lock it up All you gotta do is say it's smoke, then we're poppin' up Baby got the streets on hold, he ain't drop yet I've been goin' hard, it's gon' be hard for you to top that I make it look easy, but this shit really a process I'm really a millionaire, still in the projects Baby puttin' on for the city Baby, he the realest Baby prolly got a couple million Baby hang with four or five killers Baby got children Baby prolly still drug dealin Baby ain't a trapper, he a rapper Baby makin' classics Baby in the hood gettin' active Baby keep it real with his people Baby like a preacher Baby prolly still sell reefer Huh? Baby prolly still got them 'bows I tell my bitch I'm faithful, but I still got the hoes Baby gettin' jiggy On stage with the Glizzy Baby CEO, he shake the game like he Diddy You would think it's Mardi Gras, I got these bitches showin' titties And I ain't throwin' beads I pull them bitches' weaves I'm stallin' bitches out, if I'm a dog, then she a flea And when I fuck her doggy style the only time I'm on my knee I barely wanna hit her, got her beggin' " Baby, please" I tell a bitch to shut up You 'bout to fuck my nut up The label's CEO keep beggin' me to keep the gun up They know, you play with Baby, Baby beat him, cut up Private plane, wifi, on the FaceTime with Johnny I told him ice my wrist up I like to hold my fist up How that boy Da Baby in the air not gettin' his dick sucked? Why he keep the fire and throw them fours in every picture? 'Cause nigga Baby puttin' on for the city Baby, he the realest Baby prolly got a couple million Baby hang with four or five killers Baby got children Baby prolly still drug dealin Baby ain't a trapper, he a rapper Baby makin' classics Baby in the hood gettin' active Baby keep it real with his people Baby like a preacher Baby prolly still sell reefer
Ringtones Quality Control, Lil Baby & DaBaby - Baby
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