Out The Way lyrics

[Intro]
(Cloudy Beatz)
Ayy

[Verse]
Was finna hang that sh*t up? Well, n*gga, start scamming
Card crackin' at the Red Rock, countin' cards, gambling
Your b*tch got some fire mouth, call her Charmander
I got her heart in my hands like Damar Hamlin
Yeah, I got your b*tch whipped like a car jacker
Doggy in the hood f*cked up, hit the car hazards
Marc having his way, I'm sure you knew that though
He braggin' 'bout his b*tch, I'm scared to tell him that I knew that ho
How my skinny b*tch got BBW neck?
You would've thought my BBW suck me the best
Trust me, they gon' stay asleep on you 'til you run up a check
Sauce Gardner, I was on the corner, now we on them jets
Lacking in the opps' hood, I ain't worried about nothin'
They ain't on sh*t, finna go f*ck onе of they cousins
Give me likе thirty minutes tops
Know we don't 'posed to question you, but why I beef with dirty n*ggas, God?
I was so f*cking poor and annoying
Let Bianca suck it all night 'cause I got court in the morning
You know, just in case
They try to slam me for this pistol case
At least I elect to let some kids go play inside your b*tch today
He went to court, spilled more beans than a chili place
Nickel on me like a piggy bank, ain't no n*gga safe
I get p*ssed and catch a net like the NBA
Everywhere I go, my music bump like B2K
Pockets look like they stuffed with encyclopedias
He on Facebook hatin' on me, I'm not gon' see it
I been gettin' chicken off of rapping, it's not no pita
Just got a big invoice, I feel like Madea
Mouth glisten, top missing while I'm top gettin'
Hope the opp don't think I'm a clown 'cause I ride with it
Am I tripping or did I wake up with one sock missing?
Plug mailed some 'bows to my address like prom pictures
I'm not trippin' 'bout sh*t as long as Don with me
Chains on my neck like a slave, that's why I'm picky
I said, "Head start," b*tch speared me, but I'm not Brittney
Fifty on me, in the store stealing Rice Krispies
Hop out the long sleeve, suited like a cabaret
Court side with a Cuban like I'm at a Dallas game
I'm waitin' for a bag of sticks at baggage claim
.45 on me like pat-a-cake
In the air with them .45s like pat-a-cake
Ho, when the pastor pray, you think of me
I'm in Cali with a throat demon, G-O-D
Got her tongue wrapped under the tip like B.o.B
Still sipping, feel like Bill Withers, got lean on me
n*gga, why the f*ck you cropped the pic? Let me see your feet
Bum n*gga mad he picked a runner to be your peace
BeBe Kidd, rich as hell, tryna buy EBT
n*gga, yeah, ayy, keep it going, ayy, yeah
Rich as hell, tryna buy somebody food stamps
Boy, you broke as f*ck, somewhere arguing with a hood rat
Bad b*tches push up on the Kidd like this boot camp
Know I need the top off rip like Fruit Snacks
When I say I blew chips, it ain't Cool Ranch
How ironic, I be out the way, pockets too fat, n*gga