Fallin' Out (Explicit)

Fallin' Out (Explicit) - Lud Foe

Written by：Willie James Akins Jr.

It's so mothaf**king hot I catch a tan in this b**th

Like a mailman I'm popping rubber bands in this b**th

We be on that hot sh*t so don't get fanned in this b**th

Left the club with her but she came with her man in this b**th

I'm so mothaf**king high that I can't stand in this b**th

You a mothaf**king lie you say I ran from some sh*t

Prolly run off on the plug prolly run off with his drugs

Ni**a run up on me wrong so he ran into some slugs

And I'm prolly in the club in VIP with some thugs

No security with me cause b**th we deep and we got guns

He was chasing me ain't know I brought my sack into the club

Play with me and mine lotta niggas die in cold blood

When I hit the spot bet they letting out that red rum

Run up in yo spot green beams on all our guns

She got expensive taste have my dick all on her gums

Boy they buildings vacant lots sh*t cause I'm from the slums

Fill a ni**a up with this hot sh*t b**th you better not run

Thought it was a fair fight he ain't know I had my gun

f**ked her on the first night and she caught my first son

Are you the toughest ni**a in the crowd then you the first one

Aye lil stewie these hoes starstruck they say I do some

You a broke ni**a petty a** use a coupon

It's just me and yae pull up on yo j with 2 guns

We ain't aiming at yo legs b**th we aiming at yo head b**th

I'm eating good I'm fed b**th that tropicana sh*t red b**th

Niggas in the house on that scared sh*t

You hiding under that bed b**th

Vacay with my ak with my feet all in that sand b**th

You know I'm on a walk up with a drum like

I'm playin in a band b**th

I'm so mothaf**king high that I can't see straight

These b**ches see me 3 d and they press replay

I'm a shooter ni**a I should be on ea

Choppa in the front seat that's my new bae

You tripping boy you better tie yo shoelace

F n pencil bullets don't get erased

If my b**th get outta line she get replaced

I scratch you off the list yea I hit the backspace

And my bankrolls big like my fanbase

Forensics searching but they still can't find the shellcases

B**th I ball like a cancer patient

I'm the sh*t boy I'm constipated

I hang around robbers and you can get yo sh*t confiscated

I'm on the phone with ben Franklin money my conversation

I shoot ya chest and ya leg ya head ugly combination

They mad cause we made it they hating use it for motivation

I live in the fast lane my life is a celebration

I just bought a brand new choppa a baby k

I run up in a ni**a house broad day

I been at the finish line but yall late

The judge want me locked down behind them tall gates

F**k these b**ches I just want the money

I was selling snow and it was sunny

I take my time and wrap em like a mummy

No hilfiger but I got my tommy

Yo time is running out cock my glock and brung it out

They don't come outside cause they hiding they ain't coming out

This big mac with a lot of fries ain't no running out

I'm so mothaf**king hot b**ches see me and start falling out

Gaaaang gang