Out of Body (feat. J Loud)
901 Fazo & BreadMan Dough
Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer
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
Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer
Written by: Joel Jones, Josh Booker, Zach Gilliland
Lyrics © DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"Out of Body (feat. J Loud) Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 11 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/5148804/901+Fazo+%26+BreadMan+Dough/Out+of+Body+%28feat.+J+Loud%29>.
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