lou deezi - baby lyrics
[intro]
i’m mr. retha lately
white gold on my+ i’m claretha baby
lou, lou
[verse 1]
baby, lately, i been tryna cut them n+ggas off
show my moms i’m a boss, ‘member we shopped at ross
i need my payment, it’s hard for me to focus with no guap
so, baby, f+ck the love, i’m tryna make these pockets pop
i love to mop, feel like maze slidin’ through they sh+t
sweep they whole block until it’s cleaner than a b+tch, like where the sticks?
eleven in that stock, it’s kinda sketch, ‘cause the mexicans be deep with like eleven different heads
that n+gga dead, and brother love to diss that n+gga death
but i just cracked a smile ‘cause they said that i’ll be next, they got me dead
that’s the type of sh+t i laugh at
if you see me throw the 3, that just means i’m finna crack that
[chorus]
like, aye baby, say it with your chest if you f+ck with me
she bad and ‘bout a bag, i swear to god that ass is stuck wit’ me
ten milly, stuck wit’ me
can’t forget my chop n+gga
always call me baby even though she know i pop n+ggas
like, aye, aye
yeah, she know i pop n+ggas
yeah, she know her baby finna pop n+ggas, like aye, aye
[interlude]
can you hear me though?
b+tch, i need a 304
[verse 2]
help me out though, this sh+t hard to understand
how do you love his life but won’t take life over that man?
([?] with that man, let me help you comprehend)
like a baby wit’ a rattle but it’s sn+tched up out his hand
like n+gga d+mn
i wonder who gon’ keep that sh+t a hunnid with me
bring that trap in and b+tch, i bet you gon’ be stuntin’ wit’ me
twelve hunnid fifty, it got me feelin’ like a rich n+gga
b+tches is picky i told her tat me on her wrist, n+gga
but aye though, whoever hold that hand gon’ be sick
no she don’t ride no d+ck, she do tricks like twerk and the splits
p+ssy be p+ssin’ chips then she let me double ‘bout flip, and i put five six in a stick better hope i miss with this b+tch
my n+gga run
this a+k tend to get a lil’ attitude, i wouldn’t argue back, this ain’t the b+tch that you want mad at you
i’d rather choose, sendin’ him by the drill list
she inchin’ on me, bet she feel this
[chorus]
aye baby, say it with your chest if you f+ck with me
she bad and ‘bout a bag, i swear to god that ass is stuck wit’ me
ten milly, stuck wit’ me
can’t forget my chop n+gga
always call me baby even though she know i pop n+ggas
like, aye
she know i pop n+ggas
she call me baby but i pop n+ggas
[outro]
i’m mr. retha lately
white gold on my+ i’m claretha baby
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