Babyfxce E - Charge It To The Game lyrics
Babyfxce E [Efrem Jamaar Blackwell] Flint, Michigan, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Babyfxce E - Charge It To The Game lyrics]
(Rich100, show 'em how you do it)
It's with an X, nigga, Fxce
Yeah, come on! Alright
Man, this beat got me feeling a certain way
You ain't gon' get everything
You put in, man, just charge it to the game
Shoot my lawyer a couple thousand
Get them charges out the way
Catch him gettin' his hair cut and
Make the barber catch the fade
If I ain't makin' money or
Doin' shit with music, then I'm out the way
If young dog can't make a single play
Then get him out the game
She told me that she love
Me, I fuck with her
But feelings not the same
Fuck puttin' thе strap on layaway
I'm gettin' it out today
Don't feel my pain through this music
You gon' feel it out this K
When I say I'm gettin' my monеy out the bank
I'm gettin' it out the safe
I can't be the only one rich
I'ma be feelin' out of place
Banana clip on the micro Drac'
Peelin' off his face
They hear my music one time and
Know I'm finna be somebody
You wanna know how to rap
Give me five thousand
I'll teach you probably
She couldn't keep her legs closed
Now she got Dashiki problems
He better duck his taco before I
Knock the meat up out it
I been lettin' niggas slide
I'm done givin' chances
Been lettin' niggas copy off of me
I'm done givin' answers
Niggas don't want no smoke with us
They done gettin' cancer
Couldn't believe that I fucked
This one bitch, so I got that shit on camera
Slidin' in a stolen Scat Pack
I'm trying not to crash it
On the highway lookin' for an exit
I'm trying not to pass it
Fuck I need your heart for when
I got one on my jacket?
A hundred thousand ain't shit
That's just two months of rapping
Catch a pussy nigga lacking
Go to the viewing like nothing happened
Have 'em pull up on you with
All chops like, "E said, 'What's crackin'?'"
Still hustling like I ain't already made it
I got that from my daddy
Five pounds of Detroit Runtz
I got that shit in baggies
Not some Good Sense, bitch
We talkin' 'bout the 'bow bag
Man, this thot bitch fuckin' off the name
She don't even want cash
You drop two songs in a
Week and they both ass i make ten thousand a
Month off freestyling, nigga, you wrote that
It's with a X, nigga, Fxce, yeah, come on
It's with an X, nigga, Fxce
Yeah, come on! Alright
Man, this beat got me feeling a certain way
You ain't gon' get everything
You put in, man, just charge it to the game
Shoot my lawyer a couple thousand
Get them charges out the way
Catch him gettin' his hair cut and
Make the barber catch the fade
If I ain't makin' money or
Doin' shit with music, then I'm out the way
If young dog can't make a single play
Then get him out the game
She told me that she love
Me, I fuck with her
But feelings not the same
Fuck puttin' thе strap on layaway
I'm gettin' it out today
Don't feel my pain through this music
You gon' feel it out this K
When I say I'm gettin' my monеy out the bank
I'm gettin' it out the safe
I can't be the only one rich
I'ma be feelin' out of place
Banana clip on the micro Drac'
Peelin' off his face
They hear my music one time and
Know I'm finna be somebody
You wanna know how to rap
Give me five thousand
I'll teach you probably
She couldn't keep her legs closed
Now she got Dashiki problems
He better duck his taco before I
Knock the meat up out it
I been lettin' niggas slide
I'm done givin' chances
Been lettin' niggas copy off of me
I'm done givin' answers
Niggas don't want no smoke with us
They done gettin' cancer
Couldn't believe that I fucked
This one bitch, so I got that shit on camera
Slidin' in a stolen Scat Pack
I'm trying not to crash it
On the highway lookin' for an exit
I'm trying not to pass it
Fuck I need your heart for when
I got one on my jacket?
A hundred thousand ain't shit
That's just two months of rapping
Catch a pussy nigga lacking
Go to the viewing like nothing happened
Have 'em pull up on you with
All chops like, "E said, 'What's crackin'?'"
Still hustling like I ain't already made it
I got that from my daddy
Five pounds of Detroit Runtz
I got that shit in baggies
Not some Good Sense, bitch
We talkin' 'bout the 'bow bag
Man, this thot bitch fuckin' off the name
She don't even want cash
You drop two songs in a
Week and they both ass i make ten thousand a
Month off freestyling, nigga, you wrote that
It's with a X, nigga, Fxce, yeah, come on