ฟังเพลงBaby $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