First Day Out lyrics

[Intro]
Yo Pi'erre, you wanna come out here?
(pus*y)
Nope

[Verse 1]
I ain't going back to jail, n*gga, f*ck 12
Tried to hold me down, pus*y, yeah, I paid bail (Cash)
pus*y n*ggas snitching so they tried to give me 12 (Years)
12 plus a motherf*ckin' L (Damn)
Elbow, hell nah, I got those, yeah
Jugged a motherf*cker for a elbow
Caught his ass down bad right on Gresham Road
Did his ass real bad right at the Texaco

[Bridge]
Then I split that sh*t off right on Bouldercrest Road
Right there at the motherf*ckin' Texaco
Yeah, at the Texaco (32), at the Texaco (32)

[Verse 2]
b*tch, I'm Bouldercrest shawty
I gotta keep a 40
These n*ggas claim they 'bout it, where's your 40?
Nudy got that 30 hanging out at the end of your 40
I ain't never seen you walking with that Glock 40
That 40 with that 30 with that extension, is you with it?
You know I like them 30s, you can call me King Extension
And all my money extension, yeah, it take a long distance
You tried to touch a n*gga like me, is you tripping?
You must ain't got no heart, pus*y n*gga, I ain't got no heart
You must think you the one, thought you was gon' pull my card
You must got me f*cked up, ayy, boy, do I look like your broad?
Motherf*cker, do I look like a dildo? I ain't no toy
I will do you down bad, I will do you wrong
You better stay in the child's play 'cause little boy, you not grown
I'll pull up at your house, yeah, I'll take sh*t straight to your home
And you know I'm 'bout that Georgia sh*t, yeah, I'm takin' off your dome
pus*y
[Interlude]
(Load up another one, f*ck that)
(We gon' spray all this sh*t up, I don't give a f*ck)
I hate these fake ass n*ggas
(All that fake ass gangster sh*t, pus*y)

[Verse 3]
First of all
They wanna be a gangster then they turn into a b*tch
They wanna be a shooter but they turn into a snitch
They got money on my head but n*gga, I ain't scared of sh*t
They claimed they trying to off me, n*gga, I ain't dead yet
Where the f*ck the checks at?
Where the f*ck your shooters at?
Where the f*ck them gangsters at that you talking 'bout?
Where the f*ck them shooters at that claim they pulled up at my house?
Well they ain't pulled up right now
Still the same young n*gga with that 30 hanging out
Still the same young n*gga that'll shoot your mama's house
Clap that motherf*cker with a hundred round drum
I don't give a f*ck, I'll spark that b*tch up
Have that b*tch looking just like the Fourth of July
420, b*tch, smoke that blunt 'cause I stay high (Gas)
n*gga you not built like I
You more like that motherf*cker named T.I
I'm more like Gucci, pus*y, yeah, I love shooting
Don't make me catch a body, b*tch, ask 'bout Slime Nudy (Slime)
I don't care bout 'b*tches, I just f*ck all these groupies
And treat them hoes like speds 'cause all these hoes stupid
[Bridge]
Damn, damn, word, for real
Nah n*gga, for real
Huh

[Verse 4]
n*gga shoot at my van, b*tch, I'm bustin' back
I ain't put 12 on no n*gga, I don't know nothin' 'bout that
n*gga shoot my grandma house so b*tch, I'm bustin' back
I ain't put 12 on no n*gga, I don't know 'bout that
Mama didn't raise no ho
Mama raised me to kick doors
Mama told me, "Young n*gga, better go get you some dough"
So first thing came to my head, "I need a Glock hold 30 more"
Soon as I kicked my first door
I found out a brick or f*ckin' more

[Outro]
They ain't know
I ain't know
sh*t, so f*ck 'em
They ain't gotta know
If they ain't know, then we don’t know neither
f*ck all them motherf*ckers
All them motherf*ckers telling
First n*gga talk ganster be the last n*gga to go f*ck with 12
Boy, you's a b*tch
Yo Pi'erre, you wanna come out here?