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bdg - way out lyrics

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verse 1:
these n-gg-s lookin b-mmy, crummy, and all that
hit u wit the text i ain’t talkin bout no groupchat
pull it back and let it spray, ima blow this b-tch back
then i go and f-ck your b-tch, bus all on your b-tches back

smokin gas on the daily
poppin all these xans my memorize’s kinda hazy
i won’t ever change i will always stay the same me
never switch up on my brothers i am not fugazi

i had to make some sacrifices jus to get this far
i’m tryna make it to the top, i’m tryna buy some lavish cars
porsche’s, lamborghinis, and jaguars
i dream about this sh-t, i dream of living like a pop star

so now i’m headed to the top
lebron james but i won’t flop
my doors are open come and shop
you know i always keep a glock, and a chop, on the block
p-ssy n-gg-s, shoot at ops
all you here is pop pop
we don’t f-ck with any cops
clean em up like a mop

hook:
i’m tryna make it out, sinnin every day, hittin licks, juggin tryna find a way out
a young n-gg-s goin through a drought
im tryna make a couple racks get a little clout
love don’t live here no more
chasing these racks till my feet get sore
money moves on the block trappin by the corner store
balling on you n-gg-s yeah i’m running up the score

verse 2:
my n-gg-s on that goofy sh-t f-ck around and catch a body
1 up top in this glock in the trenches like i’m mozzy
hear the feds we skrtin off faster than a maserati
gucci stay around my waste i got a black belt no karate

slow it down switchin the flow up wit ease
murder the beat, drippen blood all over the scene
im used to it by now, i’m chill i swear this sh-t was a breeze
the flow is sick i swear y’all n-gg-s thought i had a disease

i ain’t bloodin i ain’t crippin but i’ll shoot like scottie pippen
tryna make it out the mud, all my homies on a mission
she moan, when i put the tip in
no lsd, i ain’t trippin
you rattin, i heard you snitchen
well put u into submission
my n-gg-

hook:
i’m tryna make it out, sinnin every day, hittin licks, juggin tryna find a way out
a young n-gg-s goin through a drought
im tryna make a couple racks get a little clout
love don’t live here no more
chasing these racks till my feet get sore
money moves on the block trappin by the corner store
balling on you n-gg-s yeah i’m running up the score

- bdg lyrics

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