Paroles de la chanson Out The Way par Cash Kidd

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Paroles de la chanson Out The Way par Cash Kidd

Aye

Was finna hang that shit up? Well nigga, start scamming
Card cracking at the Red Rock, counting cards gambling
Your bitch got some fire mouth, call her Charmander
I got her heart in my hands like Damar Hamlin
Yeah I got your bitch whipped like a car jacker
Doggy in the hood fucked up, hit the car hazards
Marc having his way, I'm sure you knew that though
He bragging about his bitch, I'm scared to tell him that I knew that hoe
Um, my skinny bitch got BBW neck
You would've thought my BBW suck me the best
Trust me, they gon' stay sleep on you, 'til you run up a check
Sauce Gardner, I was on the corner, now we on them jets
Walking in the opps hood, I ain't worried about nothin'
They ain't on shit, finna go fuck one of they cousins
Give me like 30 minutes tops, know we don't supposed to question you but why I beef with dirty niggas God
I was so fucking poor and annoying like Bianca
Suck it all night, cause I got court in the morning
You know, just in case, they try to slam me for this pistol case
At least I elect to let some kids go play inside your bitch today
He went to court, spilled more beans than a chili place
Nickel on me like a piggy bank, ain't no nigga safe
I get pissed and catch a net like the NBA
Everywhere I go, my music bump like B2K
Pockets look like they stuffed with encyclopedias
He on Facebook hating on me, I'm not gonna see it
I been getting chicken off of rapping, it's not no Pita
Just got a big invoice, I feel like Madea
Mouth glisten, top missing while I'm top getting
Hope the opp don't think I'm a clown, cause I ride with it
Am I tripping or did I wake up with one sock missing
Plug mailed some bows to my address like prom pictures
I'm not tripping about shit as long as Don with me
Chains around my neck like a slave, that's why I'm picky
I said "Head start", bitch speared me, but I'm not Brittney
50 on me, in the store stealing Rice Krispies
Hop out the long sleeve, suited like a cabaret
Court side with a Cuban, like I'm at a Dallas game
I'm waiting for a bag of sticks at baggage claim
4-5 on me like Patty Cake
In the air with them .45s like Patty Cake
Ho, when the pastor pray, you think of me
I'm in Cali with a throat demon, G-O-D
Got her tongue wrapped under the tip like B.o.B
Still sipping, feel like Bill Withers, now lean on me
Nigga, why the fuck you cropped the pic, let me see your feet
Bum nigga mad he picked a runner to be your peace
BeBe Kidd, rich as hell, tryna buy EBT
Nigga, yeah, aye, keep it going, aye, yeah

Rich as hell, tryna buy somebody food stamps
Boy you broke as fuck, somewhere arguing with a hood rat
Bad bitches push up on the Kidd like this boot camp
Know I need the top off rip like Fruit Snacks
When I say I blew chips, it ain't Cool Ranch
How ironic, I be out the way, pockets too fat, nigga

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