Out Like That Gucci Mane & Rich Homie Quan (Ft. Big Bank Black)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Out Like That" by Gucci Mane & Rich Homie Quan (Ft. Big Bank Black). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]
I'm just a young nigga, don't give a fuck
Tryna run these bands up, your bitch is a hitchiker, cause she got her thumb up
Thumbin through half a mill, I'm bout to fuck my thumb up
Multimillionaire, but Gucci still can't blow the bomb up
Run up, Imma gun you down, smokin gangsta out the pound
If your girlfriend friends fine, Imma dick 'm down
Faces faces faces
I go to sleep, wake up and then I phone them places
That pistol in my trunk crazy
Look at the planet, how is it overpopulated
Atlanta's just full of so many millionaires fighting cases
They took food out my mouth, my mama baby
[Chorus: Rich Homie Quan]
Got a cup full of pain, and a blunt full of problems
Man, I feel like I'm going crazy
Got a bad bitch that's insane, and she tattoo my name
She tryna trap me, have my baby
And I ain't goin out like that, out like that
I ain't goin out like that, out like that
[Verse 2: Rich Homie Quan]
Rhims on sick, nigga, you know what it is
Ain't trippin bout no bitch, nigga, penthouse how I live
Whoever might try to beat me, nigga, shout out for the kill
And they hate that my paint wet, and they hate the shinin of my ryms
And I'm killin these niggas for real, and I'm tellin you like it is
I'm here, no fear
No leader, no chill
I fuck her, don't feel
And you scared bout them headshots, no gunplay, no kill
So if you wanna make it happen, I got your main bitch her pussy fat, and it clappin
And I got Big Bank Black with me, and I got my strap with me
I'm just a young nigga, don't give a fuck
Tryna run these bands up, your bitch is a hitchiker, cause she got her thumb up
Thumbin through half a mill, I'm bout to fuck my thumb up
Multimillionaire, but Gucci still can't blow the bomb up
Run up, Imma gun you down, smokin gangsta out the pound
If your girlfriend friends fine, Imma dick 'm down
Faces faces faces
I go to sleep, wake up and then I phone them places
That pistol in my trunk crazy
Look at the planet, how is it overpopulated
Atlanta's just full of so many millionaires fighting cases
They took food out my mouth, my mama baby
[Chorus: Rich Homie Quan]
Got a cup full of pain, and a blunt full of problems
Man, I feel like I'm going crazy
Got a bad bitch that's insane, and she tattoo my name
She tryna trap me, have my baby
And I ain't goin out like that, out like that
I ain't goin out like that, out like that
[Verse 2: Rich Homie Quan]
Rhims on sick, nigga, you know what it is
Ain't trippin bout no bitch, nigga, penthouse how I live
Whoever might try to beat me, nigga, shout out for the kill
And they hate that my paint wet, and they hate the shinin of my ryms
And I'm killin these niggas for real, and I'm tellin you like it is
I'm here, no fear
No leader, no chill
I fuck her, don't feel
And you scared bout them headshots, no gunplay, no kill
So if you wanna make it happen, I got your main bitch her pussy fat, and it clappin
And I got Big Bank Black with me, and I got my strap with me
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!