f*ck Rap lyrics

by

Peezy


[Intro: Babyface Ray]
(1-800 for you, 1-800 for you)
Yeah, hm, yeah, yeah
Yeah, hm

[Verse 1: Babyface Ray]
I just chewed three percs, they say, "That's a blue" (Shh)
They say I talk too much but I just speak the truth (Truth)
My homies trappers, they don't rap so they be speaking through me (Yeah)
Her n*gga like to play my music, she be sneakin' to me (Come on)
n*gga still didn't pay their tab, you can keep the money
n*ggas flashing petty stacks, man, that's sneaker money
I got worried n*ggas plottin' so the reaper coming
Seen shells everywhere like the Easter Bunny

[Verse 2: Babyface Ray]
Yeah
Fame changed the game
n*ggas tryin' to prove a point, Instagram to blame
n*ggas get a couple dollars and forget that they lame
b*tches get a couple followers and be switching they ways
n*ggas shine a couple times and forget that it rain
I don't really give a f*ck, courtesy of the drank
Hustle hard then deposit like I live in the bank
Neighbors smell the Cali' fragrance like I live in the Bay
[Verse 3: Babyface Ray]
Yeah, f*ck how you feel, my b*tch, my momma's still struggling f*ck how we was, ain't no love if you run with them
You can get another hundred, phew, if you come with ten
I saw you when you n*ggas trap but I ain't comin' in
They say you quit rap, Ray? Yeah, I'm done with this (Why?)
'Cause I ain't cool with all that front sh*t (Aight)
I'm in my off white joggers but I'm runnin', sh*t
That man disrespect my man, I'ma f*ck his b*tch (Come on)
n*gga disrespect my brother, I'ma pop his top
Twan just walked in new Yves Saint Laurent
Pressin' thirty on the bag ten 10g's on the opp
Blue got 30 on his neck, 50Gs on the watch
Home Alone paranoia, 60Gs in the spot
Got her lyin' on a girl, he not with me in the blocks
Get love in the hood, we be feeding the block
I ain't even see my kids, all I'm seeing is guac'

[Verse 4: Peezy]
I ain't even see my momma, I've been gone for a month
Riding something lowkey with twenty-fours in the trunk
Long sleeved Escalade, six hoes in the truck
Smoking 'Woods out the pound, roll up what you want
Countin' blue hundreds, fell asleep drinking red
n*ggas postin' guns on 'Gram, they don't believe in feds
You n*ggas ain't goons, better quit the playing
When I get bored, I'ma put some cheese on your head
Coming home from Milwaukee, stopped in the shot
Takin' ten out the bag, shoppin' 'til I drop
No, it ain't the holiday but sparkles in the sky
Strippers know we buy 1s and let them b*tches fly
Shot a move to the country, paid your b*tch to drive
Sitting around fresh as sh*t and we're just getting high
Man, that sh*t you call ballin', he just getting by
f*ck your b*tch and have her screaming like she finna die
Almost said, "f*ck this rap sh*t"
'Cause I done got sick and tired of all this cap sh*t
Navy blue di*kies, I don't know my trap sh*t (Workin')
Up as hell, still act like I ain't got sh*t (Y'hear me?)
How the f*ck is he a shooter? He ain't shot sh*t
Paid my dog to clean your whole house up with that mop stick
Boy, the sh*t you saving up, that's the sh*t I cop with
Boy, you n*ggas ain't even allowed where I shop at (Broke ass n*ggas)
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