sauce walka - outpack lyrics
[intro: sauce walka & trippie redd]
if you want sauce from frost, it’s gon’ cost (haha)
drip, big 14 know what the f+ck goin’ on, yeah
gang (haha), gang
[chorus: trippie redd]
we want all the smoke, b+tch, we love that
right above my belt where the drum at
this is not the place to act dumb at
hollow tips sprayin’, where yo son at?
baby mama reachin’, where the crumbs at?
we want all the smoke, b+tch, we love that
posted in the trenches where he done at
where you better keep a d+mn gun at
we want all the smoke, where your lungs at? (tlc)
woo
[verse 1: trippie redd &sauce walka]
tables, ladders, chairs
tables, ladders, chairs
she want tender, love and care, but i don’t even care
told that lil’ b+tch, “woo!”, like i’m ric flair
we keep choppas by the pairs, shoot out anywhere (bah)
hermè+hermè+hermè, like i’m triple h
know to do the d+mn dash on the interstate
my b+tch super bad, she don’t need a k
with the murder team, choppa bullets to your face (murder, murder)
with the murder team, choppa bullets to your face (yeah, murder, murder)
with the murder team (yeah), choppa bullets to your face (bang, murder, murder)
with the murder team, choppa bullets to your face (yeah, murder, murder)
with the murder team, choppa bullets to your face (bah, bah, bah, bah, bah)
[chorus: trippie redd]
we want all the smoke (smoke), b+tch, we love that
right above my belt where the drum at (yeah, yeah)
this is not the place to act dumb at (dumb at)
hollow tips sprayin’, where yo son at?
baby mama reachin’, where the crumbs at?
we want all the smoke, b+tch, we love that
posted in the trenches where he done at
where you better keep a d+mn gun at
we want all the smoke, where your lungs at? (yeah, tlc)
ooh+wee, ooh+wee
[verse 2: sauce walka]
me and all my bloods, test my dna, blood will match
send my shoots, they blood you back, they send you flood attack (mhm)
told that b+tch, “he was in a wraith”, but he was in a lamb’
he just threw stars in the roof, and he died in that same whip
now he [?]
we the type of n+ggas to pull and take your life, boy, we ain’t [?] nothin’ till you card of jack
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