Outy When I Drive/Blamed
Sage the Gemini, Rich the Kid, Yella Beezy, Chris Brown
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CashMoneyAP Everything foreign, nigga Ooh (ay) Broke nigga shit tell 'em back back (back back) Runnin' around with the rat pack (huh) That ass too fat, tell her back back (what) Ain't doing no talkin', the choppa got kick back (blat) Ooh, ooh She want be my boo (my boo) I was broke, now I got bitches in my coupe (huh) Me and Breezy, 50 hoes, by the group (by the group) That's yo' bitch, she told a lie, ain't told the truth, ooh (ain't told the truth) I get her gone F*ck her once, she won't pick up the phone (what?) I send her home (home) Give me the dome, give me the dome High-y, high-y, high I'ma fly, I'ma flatline Outy when I drive Bring me up, bitch, on both sides Broke niggas always minus, wearin' designer See me, I beat it out the line and it'll f*ck ya spine up High-y, high-y, high Yeah, baby, flatline Outy when I drive, flatline High-y, high-y, high Yeah, baby, flatline Outy when I drive Bitch, on both sides When I do the dash, bitch, I swear that they mouth wide Hunnids, countin' cash in a pair of them Off-Whites You need to bring your ass over here If your nigga wanna fight, bitch, come outside I'm off this Hennessy, too many shots Don't give a f*ck Ain't no excuses for bein' belligerent, just give me the bottle Stop thinkin' about it, 'til I'm on the floor Switchin' lanes, caught in the paint, off the backboard Ain't no way I'ma change, pussy got me goin' High-y, high-y, high I'ma fly, I'ma flatline Outy when I drive Bring me up, bitch, on both sides Broke niggas always minus, wearin' designer See me, I beat it out the line and it'll f*ck ya spine up High-y, high-y, high Yeah, baby, flatline Outy when I drive, flatline High-y, high-y, high Yeah, baby, flatline Outy when I drive Bitch, on both sides I say vroom, vroom 808s gon' make your body shake Look bitch boom, boom And when I get you I'ma knock that pussy to the moon, moon If he trippin', grab that Smith And I'ma knock his brain loose Do what you do These hatin' niggas got it bad Nigga talkin' tough until my lil' partna went shot his ass And if you mention me, then you gon' end up in a body bag Lil' mama, I ain't tryna f*ck you if you ain't got a lot of ass I need a lot of that, yeah-yeah High-y, high-y, high I'ma fly, I'ma flatline Outy when I drive Bring me up, bitch, on both sides Broke niggas always minus, wearin' designer See me, I beat it out the line and it'll f*ck ya spine up High-y, high-y, high Yeah, baby, flatline Outy when I drive, flatline High-y, high-y, high Yeah, baby, flatline Outy when I drive Bitch, on both sides Your call cannot be completed as dialed Please check the number and dial again Or dial 6-1-1 (Don't play me to the left 'Fore I pull up with that thing on me I'm shootin', aimin' for the neck And ain't nobody finna bang on me) Ayy, I just check my bank account, I'm goin' dumb as f*ck I point her in the right direction, tell her, "Run it up" I put her in the Louis line, nigga, one-to-ones But we don't fight I take this .40 off my waist just like a tummy tuck I don't speak much unless it's money, so If they don't know me personal, then I don't take it personal They love you when you wins high, let you know (let you know) But when your wins low, they treat you like a Urkel I learn that family don't always matter (yeah, whoa) I send these shots around your dome, now you silent (yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah) Ayy, I'm just tryna buy me a big place (big place) I'm just tryna buy me a lawyer, help me beat the case I'm just tryna f*ck you, let you lead the way (the way) And if we can't make it to the bed, do it on the way Don't play me to the left, no 'Fore I pull up with that thing on me I'm shootin', aimin' for the neck, oh And ain't nobody finna bang on me I got your bitch, she coming over (woo!) She gon' bring her friend too (woo!) They gon' pop and bend it over (woo!) Like that pussy brand new Get her an Uber when it's over F*ck that, just hop up in the coupe What you gon' do? 'Cause you can't really put the blame on us If there's a problem, I'ma pop up, I'ma shoot out the roof You need to stop it 'fore I make your mama really miss you Ain't throwin' spirals, really big bullets and a couple missiles I hit your bitch up that Friday and I told her to choose She told me, "Yeah, we on for the nightcap" I know your nigga won't like that Get his cap peeled and his life jack' That's why I don't take a day off Hustle like every day is the playoffs Damn right, we fuckin' winnin' Don't like me, f*ck your feelings (feelings) Money up to the ceilin' (ceilin') Smoke weed, I'm up there with it (there with it) Like murder, make a killin' See murder for no limit White people in my business Black women give me kisses With all these snitches, it ain't safe no more (no more) Niggas sayin' names and they showin' up to court (court) I'ma take a shot, have one new board Before I light this bitch up and shoot it off the backboard You got me fucked up Don't play me to the left, no 'Fore I pull up with that thing on me I'm shootin', aimin' for the neck, oh And ain't nobody finna bang on me I got your bitch, she coming over (woo) She gon' bring her friend too (woo) They gon' pop and bend it over (woo) Like that pussy brand new Get her an Uber when it's over F*ck that, just hop up in the coupe What you gon' do? 'Cause you can't really put the blame on us (Ooh, huh, huh, huh) I might slide in it (slide in it) I like bad bitches (bad) Bentley 350s (skrrt) I got three with me (Ooh) It's a blame game (blame game) Let my chains swang (swang) I don't know her name (what?) All these hoes the same (yeah) She want Chanel on her (Chanel) Birkin bags, she was rackin' sale on 'em (ooh) I got the nail on her Fuckin' friends and she think I'ma tell her (ooh) In my coupe, I got two Niggas mad I got the juice I'ma smash on your boo (smash) I got cash on me too She won't play me to the left I'm a rich nigga to death (death) She gon' pull up with the neck Boss up for a check (check) Know he want her She got red bottoms on her (on her) If I f*ck her two times, she a goner (huh) Don't play me to the left, no 'Fore I pull up with that thing on me I'm shootin', aimin' for the neck, oh And ain't nobody finna bang on me I got your bitch, she coming over She gon' bring her friend too They gon' pop and bend it over Like that pussy brand new Get her an Uber when it's over F*ck that, just hop up in the coupe What you gon' do? 'Cause you can't really put the blame on us
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Written by: Nigel Spakes, Alex Petit, Patrizio Pigaliapoco, Aaron Rogers, MIchael Hernandez, Dominic Woods, Chris Brown, Dimitri Roger
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"Outy When I Drive/Blamed Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 27 Apr. 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/1597916/Chris+Brown/Outy+When+I+Drive-Blamed>.
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