More songs by Babyface Ray
Description
Producer: 4amjuno
Producer: Lulrose
Composer: 4amjuno
Composer: Lulrose
Lyricist: Marcellus Rayvon Register
Lyricist: Travis PIttman & Gerald Leroy Chauncey Page
Lyrics and translation
Original
-Cherry Production. -Yeah.
Baby, I can't Netflix and chill, I'm still in motion. Thinkin' 'bout the homies that
I lost, I get emotional.
Wake up screamin', "Kick," nigga lyin', was in the motor. See my uncle run through books daily with no diploma.
Pretty bitch, bend her over, petty can't be around us.
I'ma buy the bar and pass out shots until they vomit. I been gettin' money, protectin' energy like Wakanda. Never land the gang,
I'm in a plane without a pilot. Three-hundred sixty-five, every day count.
CEO Wavy Gang, live from the lakehouse.
Can't believe you put our bitch away, she tryna break out.
Got her walkin' through the penthouse naked, nothin' but a tank top. Yeah, get your rank up, nah, get your bank up. You know when it come to fam,
I'll take a pay cut. Ayy, Fat Jack, Wack Goo, look how the state cut.
Leanin' hard, bendin' corners, geeked, the Forza scraped up. Yeah, Face, you the one, yeah,
I know, ain't gotta tell me shit.
I'll come get him, grab him, take him, bro, don't mail me shit. Nigga almost lost his fuckin' life for tryna sell me hit.
Pussy nigga caught me with his ho and tried to tell my bitch.
Lucky trappin', never seen a nigga workin', scalin' Rick.
If I leave the gang where they love me, damn, I feel like Mitch. Rockstar, fuck Panda, Face down, feel like Kiss.
Fuck a soda, caviar sippin', smell it when I piss. Yeah, seekin' better days.
I was goin' through some shit, that's when the blessin' came.
I got some killers love me to death, don't even say my name. The pain was forty, base two hundred, can't even get my lane.
These niggas claimin' that they players, don't even get in the game.
I take a few sips, pop me a Perky before I get on the stage.
These niggas act like they be wildin' when all the pits in the cage.
I go courtside with a cup and a bad bitch when the Pistons playin'. My old head rent a Benz, no stash, brick in hand.
Hit the lights, know he ran, hit a corner, toss it back.
Runnin' out of money, no mail, make it lots of cash. Slimey 'cause I'm feelin' masked, chrome heart, doctor bag.
Shake his hand, play it cool with him, then rock his ass.
Got the same job Tommy had when they asked how lab tests. Got my nigga geekin' bad in somebody grass.
Picked him up, I told his lil' ass to mop the track in.
Yeah. My biggest goal was go and buy a Benz, allows me to twin.
Winter cruisin' in the fuckin' winter, they don't understand.
Pull the spot on the newest gin, hit you and your friend, yeah.
My biggest sin was go and do some shit to try to feed my kid. I repent but I do not regret, I'd do that shit again.
Pillow talkin' 'cause you smashed a rapper, we did that shit as kids.
We went up in dreads, hopped on PJ, did that shit and lived.
I hop on a bike to catch a sale, CJ send them dreads. Five minutes 'til we hit the top, bae, put down your pants.
2025 Maybach, he fresh out the feds.
I'm in Aspen, my clip tote a head, I hop out a sled. Nasty bitch think I wanna fuck her on period, I keep runnin' reds.
I keep one off top, call him top 'cause he hit number head. Wavy ES7, MB042 in France.
Iced up like my nigga vest. Can't be fucked with, that's the fam.
Jump the curb and scratch the Lamb'. I'm shiftin' to another band.
How much for them leather pants? Bitch, you know that's your van. How many niggas got a million cash?
Let me see a show of hands.
I stay patient, got a line, I'll give you a kit if you rollin' mine. Cashmere, roll it loud, sprayin' codeine on the crowd.
Old soul forever live, Earl Sweat and Pony Don.
Maybach in the Coney line, it's just me and this pole in mine. For my niggas, hold it down, tell my bitch in police lights.
Stay out the kitchen, stove too hot. Plottin' on me? I hope you not.
-Cherry Production. -Yeah. Know what the fuck goin' on.
Mob.
Still sippin', never trippin', nigga.