Lil Baby, 21 Savage – Outfit

Artist: [Artist Name] Song Title: [Song Title] (Note: The artist and song title were not provided in the original text, so I have included placeholders.) Verse 1 Yeah, 100K light, that's just travel to me (check, please) I ain't goin' back and forth, bitch, I'm capital P Ain't dropped a song when my trap still on beat We got three thousand pounds, how the fuck we gon' sleep? Lost a few guys, but I ain't lose no sleep Ain't no roof on this 'Rari, ain't duckin' no beam (what else?) I'm the big dawg, niggas puppies to me (what?) That's my shit, but she can't be in public with me Fuckin' these bitches ain't nothin' to me I had pretty shit when it was ugly for me (on God) Real hustler, I am (am), I could send a pack all the way to Thailand (Thailand) He can't do nothin' for you, but I can (I'm him, I can) Bulletproof, that wherever I land at In the hood where I'm high in demand at (demand) Ten whole summers, no fumbles, I ran that Pillow talkin' to hos got your man jacked All that hidin' in the house got your man stamped (frrt-frrt) Baby land, we done sold out a WHAM pack (gone) Certified, came home servin' 'em gram sacks "Go be rich or die tryin', " I chance that (chance it) I took off, but I still sent a hand back (a hand) Give the trenches some hope Put it on like I'm still sellin' dope, the new 'Rari a four door (four door) Me and bae on the yacht with some hos When we done, call 'em over and go eat at Komodo In Skyami, I move like a pope now (Keisha) She a good one, but love to get choked out (come here) I make anywhere turn to a dope house In the mix, but I'm keepin' my folks out it, yeah Chorus Hoppin' out a lamb chop Hotter than Atlanta Someone cut the fan on Whole lotta bands on me, yeah Shirt two thousand, jeans six thousand Kicks two thousand, dime on the outfit Dice game geeked up, Cadillac, V-truck Track' with the kill switch, all that type shit Verse 2 Bought a 'Rari, I'm rich, I ain't rent one I'm on Candler where I get my tint done If she askin' for money, I send some Get her hair and her nails, and her hips done All the trucks be P, we got ten of 'em When you talk 'bout a real one, I been one If you point out a opp, I'ma spin one We give all of 'em belt, nigga, then some Niggas goin' back and forth, ain't none of that If she fine and she thick, I'ma double-tap Put a switch on the back, gotta double-tap Get him smacked, turn around, give his brother dap G-block, cutthroat, where they thuggin' at It's a few rap niggas that'll never rat I'm one, engineer, this where you cut it at All the fans and the blogs need to study that Super Saiyan from the back, I Goku She a rachet-ass bitch, put her on Zeus I'm a player, I'll run through the whole crew Brought Drac' with me and it know kung fu If I hit him in the jaw, then he gon' sue Colored diamonds in the Richard like Hi-Chews She like, "How the car barkin'?" Ain't no roof When you suck me, I don't wanna feel no tooth Nigga, fuck your big dawg, say you know who We got sticks for them niggas and smoke too Need to call the opps vibes, they hos too Prolly wouldn't step on shit with a old shoe I got rich and I iced out the whole zoo If she bad and she quiet, I go through Slow music, she fuckin' me slow too I'm an R&B nigga off Pro Tools If it's war with us, you prolly gon' lose From Atlanta, ain't playin' by no rules Catch him at the red light, nigga, don't snooze Glock .40, Gen5, nigga, don't move Bulletproof Maybach, put it on cruise Take a nigga main bitch, put her on a cruise On your knees, don't stop, let me see a bruise You might get a Kelly bag if you make it ooze Chorus Hoppin' out a lamb chop (ooze) Hotter than Atlanta Someone cut the fan on Whole lotta bands on me, yeah Shirt two thousand, jeans six thousand Kicks two thousand, dime on the outfit Dice game geeked up, Cadillac, V-truck Track' with the kill switch, all that type shit