Testo Baby Man - Skilla Baby
Testo della canzone Baby Man (Skilla Baby), tratta dall'album Carmelo Bryant
(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)
Credits
Writer(s): Trevon Gardner
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