Out My Business lyrics

[Intro: Biggs & Masoe]
Come on now....AH!

[Verse 1: BandGang Masoe]
5'4 with more heart than the biggest tho
Don't let it go, we steady go and lettin' triggers go
That's your hoe, yeah I know, still gotta f*ck her though
We all ballin', sh*t feel kind of like the Rucker though
Close to a deal but sick I had to lose my brother though
Nindo, all I know need cheddar tho
Mill's voice man, the pigs will never let 'em go
Life, leave your b*tch ass on ice
Get into it broad day you'll be dead by the night
Went to sleep, woke up to news man this sh*t don't seem right
[?] I'm off a four, juice washin' down the rice
Buffs on, dark tint, I'm just dimmin' down them lights
b*tches bout that f*ckin' life, they know what them hunnids like
I can do this in my sleep this sh*t really somethin' light
Sorry mama I ain't right, I'm just caught up in the life
But uh, b*tch get out my business I ain't ask you

[Verse 2: BandGang Biggs]
Back the f*ck up, all these bands gave me the cash flu
Call Rose, tell that n*gga bring the bags through
But you wouldn't know about that though, you too fragile
Run up on some stupid sh*t and get the Mac drew
You a stupid n*gga I wouldn't even put it past you
My lil' n*ggas poppin' pills like they cashews
I can't even blame 'em, they pop them and act casual
Rose playin' so I had to get the bag flew
Choppin' down bowls, seen more sticks than a bamboo
Now I'm going on vacation out in Cancun
Just to show you broke ass n*ggas what them bands do

[Verse 3: Bandgang Paid Will]
Them bands buying bowls and b*tches bags
Runnin' off with mine, I'm sendin' Mone to go get his ass
Garbage bags filled with cash, b*tches think it's trash
In the hallways grabbing ass, I was missin' class
But the streets taught me well, always keep my scale
Thinkin' bout Dotts, we was just riding, hitting sales
Real n*ggas up in heaven, pussies go to hell
Glock with the beam, plus the clip in it long as hell
Good Larry and Cuz got blow for sell
Hook hit the stash just know a n*gga makin' bail
But b*tch get out my business, I ain't asked you
[Verse 4: Bandgang Lonnie Bands]
Aye, b*tch why you all in my sh*t?
Matter fact, thousand pills can you stuff all this sh*t
Meanwhile the hood hot, the FEDs sliding down
n*gga they'll erk off this b*tch, we'll chop 'em down
Last dummy slid down, put his chopper down
n*gga touch me then we comin' at your mama now
This ain't a fairytale, we got a bottle, every bale
We got 'em comin' through the mail, b*tch UPS ringin' bells
Aye, n*gga what's the problem?
Get 'em Bandman, n*gga I got 'em
We got the oil base, they got the spoiled face
n*gga I know they hate, n*gga I know I'm great
These n*ggas say they kill they just really acting
Boy, your ass need some target practice
Boy, get out your feelings before you get blasted

[All together]
b*tch get out your feelings I ain't asked you