Babyface Ray, Westside Gunn - Fly Gods lyrics

Babyface Ray

Babyface Ray [Marcellus Rayvon Register] Detroit, Michigan, U.S. 🇺🇸

[Babyface Ray, Westside Gunn - Fly Gods lyrics]

(yeah)
Yeah (Like one of them old school motherfuckers, man, gettin' money right now)
Nigga, Spaz ain't been home ninety days, man
Nigga already plat'
(Already, young nigga, can't tell us nothin')
Shit just different
You know what I'm sayin'?
(Fuck 'em, know we gon' get it done) yeah

Look what the streets did to my mans
(Look) , real nigga, he ain't play the sport
Got football numbers
Bad bitch, used to turn it up
Now she duckin' calls from him (Oh, yeah)
I think Soda came to me last night
And told me "Ball on 'em" nothin'-ass bitch
Still order ones and let 'em fall on her
I just got a plug, but now I rap
I put my dog on it
Niggas on the 'Gram with the work
Game waterеd down (Wow)


Trap popped up with some Trues
Lеt me call around (H Town)
They say the streets dry (For real)
Ain't nobody got no money, got me askin' why
(It's fucked up)
Back against the wall, standin' tall
I bet I'm blastin' out
Jeweler say it's done, I'm like
"Okay, " like Kidd, i'm cashin' out
(I'm on my way)
Yeah, how you gettin' money? I
Can't see that shit, dog
Why you claimin' her like you
Don't see this bitch flawed? (Why?)
In the back, reclinin', I got TVs in the car
(For real)
Gettin' money easy, went three G on 'em, boy
(You know what I'm sayin', we
Get money on these niggas, dog)
Yeah, gettin' money easy, went
Three G on 'em, boy
(Know what I'm sayin', keep niggas motivated
Rest in peace my nigga Crumbs, man)
Yeah, gettin' money easy, went
Three G on 'em, boy
From rag to riches, fuck the baddest, nigga
Pass them bitches (For real)
Had the bag, you finished, sad to hear it
Had to laugh at niggas
No more sneak-dissin'
I should tag you niggas
Mashin' through the trenches
Clear your tab, my nigga (Broke-ass nigga)
Hope you know, when it go, she gone
Wipe your ass, my nigga, it get deep
Listen to me hear snakes hissin' for me
Told my boy legit
He like "How?" All he know is hustle
Bodyguards make me feel funny, F&N the muscle
Brodie, he been fightin' with the work
In there jumpin' on it
Mama, she been prayin' for me hard
Say I'm up to somethin' (For real)
Lil' cuz, he broke
It broke my heart because he come from money
Niggas hatin'
Frontin' on your dog like this
Shit luck or somethin' (For real)
Boy, I know you love her with your heart
But that bitch love the youngin
Young OG, young OG
Presidentials on my bitch now
I got one for me (And my bitch, nigga)
Mob boss, when you see the gang
Tell me what you see (Mob)
Take the lean
Experiment with it 'til that fucker pink
You would have the world if it was up to me
Boy, it's a world, shoutout Tennessee
(Boy, it's a world)
Trophies in the sky, you an MVP
Mix a four of Pai with the MGP (Flygod)

Ayo, I'm still old school
Whack a nigga for his buffs (Ah)
Paid sixty-two hundred for the Dunks
Gucci North Face with the
Mountains at the pump (Ah)
Pull it out on you
Who you be? Where you from? (Fuck)

Rose Dweller, everything had a drum (Brr)
Back to back 580 parked in front of Eddie V's
Spray painted dog on the Givenchy
Denim Tears, still droppin' tears
But Auntie Chelle, she should be here
I wish she could see my
Foyer and my chandelier
Went home, took a nap, came back
The fiend was still there (Still there)
Glock with the switch
(Brr) , pops gettin' hit
Presidential suite at the Ritz
Ricks up to shin (Ah)
Margiela trench

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