chris romero – out in the open lyrics
[verse 1: chris romero]
i’m kickin’ in the door 6’4 with a mean demeanor
fuck a ski mask cause this sucka boutta meet his k!lla
vincent by the exit in case he bouncin gonna leave him leakin
ain’t got time for words unless its money. why the fuck you speaking?
rollin thru the city without them tints tho
i said i’m out in the open its fuck them pigs too
it seems they always on yo -ss against your next move wondering when you gonna fuck up look how this chest move
i fucked ya b-tch too and make her sang like its acapella
i ain’t her man i ain’t mad when i’m not wit her
posted with my rebels you a lame thats why we clown you
apex if you getting confused get a clue
i’m coming in the game out of place got some loose screws
quick to get to drilling popping off like a corkscrew
so sick of y’all sensitive i’m in a bad mood
hearing all this b-tching got me thinking you a b-tch too
im out the open won’t hesitate to leave ya body broken
hesitation a form of waiting n i’m sick of being patient let me give you confirmation fuck a lack of communication
cause i’m hear to make it clear that there that my stature acc-mulating
and my crew is never vacant originals all got their own spots never have replacements give a fuck bout what you thought
take a moment to think about it now cause if you ain’t real with your own then who the fuck do you got?
[verse 2: vince exito]
6 feet bussin through your label door
with a cannon in my hands and the frame is 6’4
the clicks roll
we got your record company surrounded because your shits slow
the verses packin heat like winslow
when it comes to this rap shit, its playing tetris
stacking cheese and avoid niggas staying hectic
i’m staying reckless smoking dutches with a mean grip
then p-ssing it to the left to a royal queen thick
as i write cryptic codes over heads like asbestos
i switch hands and hit the blunt ambidextrous
someone calling my phone but fuck it they’ll leave a message
because we in mid conversation talking pre finessing
predestined apex we bringing means storms
and headed for the top even if the fuckin seat warm
you hatin niggas and b-tches you better get it straight
i don’t give a fuck about your opinion if they aren’t dinner plates
the headquarters got the louie flags on the rooftops
supreme headbands and kith tube socks
get it right
or beat it homie and get a life
i’m zooted with a shorty cutting up on a september night
just ask my nigga dave
we speeding in a 300z to the hills to the view and gaze
i’m in awe
i need the girls to drop the draws
i need the fucking applause
baby i need it all
giving these rappers jaws
giving these rappers light
they copy everything i do even when i write
even when i just light
a dutch up during the night
i’m coasting over your heads
and you gone in the wind like kites nigga
exito
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