Song Page - Lyrify.me

Lyrify.me

Outside Today by Q Da Fool Lyrics

Genre: rap | Year: 2018

[Intro: Q Da Fool]
Na, fuck all that
We ain't staying the the muhfucking' house
We going outside

[Hook: Q Da Fool]
I ain't hiding from you bammas'
Let me feel some type of way
Put my nigga on that camera
They gave him fifty years, day for day
If the nigga hot, we gone' bake his cake
A hundred rounds in the wraith, im down to eight
A hundred Rich Shootahs' and they down to spray
Fuck up the show, my killers keep me safe
I hear you hoes talking, call it how you call it
I was just locked, but now i'm back to balling
I got that clean lean, wockaholic'
Say it's a problem, bet the goons solve it
Caught my opps slipping, that shit was a blessing
We looking, we searching, I swear we gone' catch him
Got a mop in my MAK, but I don't clean my mess up
Bitch its Hundred Round Goon, all that beef ain't no pressure
If they wrong, if they right
Bitch we gone' slide tonight
That beef shit get me hype
I'm not the rapper type
But I got that riper price
These niggas with hermaphrodites
Ain't no drive by
I'm the up close and personal type
[Verse 1: Q Da Fool]
Four or five hours, yeah the Perc working right
[?] cause them niggas working right
Stay loyal to the plug, and forever you're alright
OG got a hundred bricks, he always out of sight
Mama said, if you out of sight, you out of mind
Can't show you my stacks, but I could show you how to grind
Send my little brother money, he got caught up in a bind
Draco on my left, ARP on my right
Twenty-two three, seven-six-two intertwine
*If the plug got work turn the stash time*
Opposition never come to me, I gotta hold for mines
Give the nigga all I got because the bitch crossed the line
And I been shot a gun way before I spit a rhyme

Load up the gun, put on the mask, showtime, showtime
Fucking your hoe, she in the pace, you know she got slime
What im smoking? Grape, this cup purple ape, its tasting like wine
I come over quick, cause that nigga fake, and I seen his signs
This shit happen everytime I drink the ACT before a line
I just came from Houston I fucked her four times

[Hook: Q Da Fool]
I ain't hiding from you bammas'
Let me feel some type of way
Put my nigga on that camera
They gave him fifty years, day for day
If the nigga hot, we gone' bake his cake
A hundred rounds in the wraith, im down to eight
A hundred Rich Shootahs' and they down to spray
Fuck up the show, my killers keep me safe
I hear you hoes talking, call it how you call it
I was just locked, but now i'm back to balling
I got that clean lean, wockaholic'
Say it's a problem, bet the goons solve it
Caught my opps slipping, that shit was a blessing
We looking, we searching, I swear we gone' catch him
Got a mop in my MAK, but I don't clean my mess up
Bitch its Hundred Round Goon, all that beef ain't no pressure
If they wrong, if they right
Bitch we gone' slide tonight
That beef shit get me hype
I'm not the rapper type
But I got that riper price
These niggas with hermaphrodites
Ain't no drive by
I'm the up close and personal type