Out of Body (feat. J Loud)

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901 Fazo & BreadMan Dough

3:37

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Yeah, New Money $quad, bitch
F*ck you talm ‘bout?
Yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
(I said it’s fuckin’ Payday motherfu—)
This is the rap for the other bodies
That could never make it to the after party
Ducking, dodging, dipping, grab your buddy
‘Cause you finna get to feeling out of body
Flipping, swerving, drifting, Ricky Bobby
How I whip the motherfuckin’ Maserati
Guaranteed, you’ll never wanna try me
Coming at your head, it’s a kamikaze (Ayy!)
(Ayy!) Out of body, out of body
Walking Dead, shot a zombie
You would think they working in a office
How these motherfuckers are some carbon copies
In the office with yo bitch she got me
On the flo’ she top me with the sloppy toppy
Finna treat ‘em like I’m off the Molly
When I’m sending licks without a fucking loli’
I remember scraping for a dollar
That was back when I was wearing Tommy
Talking like a brother wearing Prada
But a motherfucker still wearing Tommy
But I got a fuckin’ hoodie on me
Boy, you know I keep the goodie on me
Got a brother buzzing ‘cause the woody on me
For light years, that’s the truth lil’ homie
‘Cause my blunt just gon’ come with the fye
Double OG, triple time
Got a pen to hit the dab
I pearl the blunt, no Mr. Krabs, yeah
I remember when my momma told me
Everybody was gon’ sit and laugh, yeah
Nowadays, I’m skipping class, yeah
Nowadays, you kissing ass
I made it, so f*ck all that shit in the past
I’m number one at the top of my class
All of the spots have been filled in the draft
By my brothers, but we ain’t ever gonna crash, yeah
I would hate to be in last
I hated the bottom, that shit was some ass, literally
Now we perfected our craft and we killing it
I’m witcho bitch in the back and she feeling me
This is the rap for the other bodies
That could never make it to the after party
Ducking, dodging, dipping, grab your buddy
‘Cause you finna get to feeling out of body
Flipping, swerving, drifting, Ricky Bobby
How I whip the motherfuckin’ Maserati
Guaranteed, you’ll never wanna try me
Coming at your head, it’s a kamikaze
Say we won’t make it, keep saying that shit
My mama gon’ ride, give a f*ck ‘bout a bitch
It’s some’ like Febreeze how we spraying this shit
‘Cause this shit fresh, yeah, this shit new
Lions, gorillas, we come like the zoo
We say we the greatest, they say that we liars
I feel like the devil, ‘cause bitch, I’m on fire
Lord, please forgive me, just know that I’m trying
They speak on the $quad, that’s the reason they dying
Lot on my shoulders, I know I can make it
Grandma told me to live on and be patient
Lord, you know me, you know I’mma buck
Got this nine on my side, if it’s up, then it’s up
007, he thinking it’s tough
This not Nickelodeon, we blowing shit up forreal
They don’t wanna jack, so I’m clutching my steel
Was taught to be thankful and always be real
These niggas hoes like they last name was Seals
That dog, I’m tripping, think I need to chill
Shoutout my uncle ‘cause them niggas real
My name hold weight like a fist
Stuck with the game like a tick
New Money $quad running this shit
Bitch, don’t like it you can suck my dick
Any track I’m on gon’ beat like this
Any track I’m on gon’ beat, bitch
This is the rap for the other bodies
That could never make it to the after party
Ducking, dodging, dipping, grab your buddy
‘Cause you finna get to feeling out of body
Flipping, swerving, drifting, Ricky Bobby
How I whip the motherfuckin’ Maserati
Guaranteed, you’ll never wanna try me
Coming at your head, it’s a kamikaze
Everyday, I focus on getting paid
Guaranteed if a motherfucker try me
He would be in a casket, 6 feet under
He ain’t never coming home to his family
When I asked you to listen, all that motherfucker did was laugh
And always tryna dodge me
Now up with the gang, touring shows
Taking souls, kicking ass, getting straight to the money
Do I look like a clown? ‘Cause my face ain’t funny
He must really want it, ‘cause he searching for something
He start playing games, so I had to go dummy
I got out control, so things got a lil bloody
You don’t even know me, so how could you trust me?
You lie and you fake, you claimed that you love me
Bitch, you lie and you fake, so how could you love me?
I never been the type to ever rap like this
People never knew I could rap this
How I’m a vet, you can’t say I’m a rookie
Be done in jiffy, this ain’t none but a quickie
Ain’t talking ‘bout drums, but I’m beating her pussy
Take four or five thousand, he thinking ‘bout booking
(Uh, cash, cash, cash)
Take four or five thousand, he thinking ‘bout booking
It’s time for the turn around
Nigga gon’ try me, we gun ‘em down
It’s time for the turn around
Nigga gon’ try me, we gun ‘em down
Bitch, it’s time for the turn around
Nigga gon’ try me, we gun ‘em down
It’s time for the turn around (Yeah)
J Loud, bitch

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