Out The Box lyrics

[Intro: Kay Boba]
Ah, woah, yeah, sh*t, yeah, slatt

[Chorus: Kay Boba]
I ain't movin' like a b*tch, you really soundin' silly, yeah
Shawty sippin' red, out the box, to [?], ah
n*gga said he 'bout to run the [?] like, "Please don't kill me" Ah
Then I took her to my [?], she looked at me like I'ma kill her, ah
I'ma stack the racks from my toes to my head
She gon' leave after that, I'm a G 'til I'm dead
They gon' ask me how I made it, I said, "leave it to the hits"
I stay pouring up the red
I'd rather die than tell the feds, oh, yeah

[Verse 1: MG Magna]
I don't givе a f*ck if you don't like me, 'cause I'll lеt you know
I've been getting bread so you gon' hear me on the radio
If you f*ck with us, then we gon' pass you up and leave you cold
My n*ggas always 'bout the dough
Get the scrap and make you fold
Me and Boba in this sh*t so we gon' turn you into passes, yeah
I'm getting all these racks so don't let me go catch you lackin' yeah
Try to waste our time, you out of line, you a distraction, yeah
Why you always 'bout that action?
'Bout to rob you for a fraction
We've been winnin' all the time, it's like we're even on your grind
Keep a .40 on my neck and shawty lookin' like a dime
We been gettin' all this bread while they just askin' for a fine
Yeah, we do it all the time
Lately, I've been getting high
[Chorus: Kay Boba]
I ain't movin' like a b*tch, you really soundin' silly, yeah
Shawty sippin' red, out the box, to [?], ah
n*gga said he 'bout to run the [?] like, "Please don't kill me" Ah
Then I took her to my [?], she looked at me like I'ma kill her, ah
I'ma stack the racks from my toes to my head
She gon' leave after that, I'm a G 'til I'm dead
They gon' ask me how I made it, I said, "leave it to the hits"
I stay pouring up the red
I'd rather die than tell the feds, oh, yeah

[Verse 2: 289Shawty]
I knew I was a G since the day one (Yeah)
Knew that I was the man the way they run
Playin' with my cash, you know 289 don't play nun'
And if you got a lil' problem, n*gga, how about you go say some'
She top ten, shorty givin' head
I just pour up all that red, real n*gga, what I bled
And I laid her on the bed, I'm all over that b*tches neck, yeah
Staring at me, waiting for me to go in that hitter, yeah
After, baby, you won't understand, I'm a hard hitter, yeah
And I'm sendin' all them [?] back like LeBron did the splitter, yeah
I got this badge, hall of fame, no f*ck giver, yeah
And he jumpin' out the 4-door tellin' that lil' b*tch to give it up (Give it up)
n*gga, I'm with BAF (BAF), and MG Mag' (MG Mag')
In the stu', we makin' hits, you know we makin' all the haters mad
Most hated, gonna have a plaque in the glass, n*gga
Man, my first place is certain, ain't no way I'm last, n*gga
[Chorus: Kay Boba]
I ain't movin' like a b*tch, you really soundin' silly, yeah
Shawty sippin' red, out the box, to [?], ah
n*gga said he 'bout to run the [?] like, "Please don't kill me" Ah
Then I took her to my [?], she looked at me like I'ma kill her, ah
I'ma stack the racks from my toes to my head
She gon' leave after that, I'm a G 'til I'm dead
They gon' ask me how I made it, I said, "leave it to the hits"
I stay pouring up the red
I'd rather die than tell the feds, oh, yeah