Quality Control Music - Baby lyrics

Yeah rest in peace to Bankroll‚ show ’em how to do it Baby goin’ crazy‚ he been gettin’ straight to it I done caught so many flights I end up fu*kin’ all the stewardesses Catch me in Atlanta‚ no security with my jewelry Found all them rings my baby mama talkin’ suin’ me ‘Nother b***h tellin’ lies on the p***y like she screwin’ me Catch him down bad that’s his a*s‚ n***a you or me SI diamonds on the chain he ain’t foolin’ me We was skippin’ school on the train‚ duckin’ truancy My main partner turned into a rat he talkin’ ’bout Rod and me I pray the judge give that boy a bond so I can pop him We was in the hood sellin’ bags shroom trap exotic fu*ked around and tried to go and lease a helicopter Baby really a problem somebody gotta stop him And the haters watchin’ too hard I think they got binoculars Every n***a with me on go it ain’t no stoppin’ us ni**as actin’ like they got the bag I’m tryna stop it up Do this for the bros down the road gotta lock it up All you gotta do is say it’s smoke then we’re poppin’ up Baby got the streets on hold he ain’t drop yet I’ve been goin’ hard it’s gon’ be hard for you to top that I make it look easy but this s**t really a process I’m really a millionaire still in the projects Baby puttin’ on for the city Baby he the realest Baby prolly got a couple million Baby hang with four or five killers Baby got children Baby prolly still drug dealin Baby ain’t a trapper he a rapper Baby makin’ classics Baby in the hood gettin’ active Baby keep it real with his people Baby like a preacher Baby prolly still sell reefer Huh? Baby prolly still got them ‘bows I tell my b***h I’m faithful but I still got the h**s Baby gettin’ jiggy on stage with the Glizzy Baby CEO he shake the game like he Diddy You would think it’s Mardi Gras I got these b*tches showin’ titties And I ain’t throwin’ beads I pull them b*tches’ weaves I’m stallin’ b*tches out if I’m a dog then she a flea And when I f**k her doggystyle the only time I’m on my knee I barely wanna hit her got her beggin’ “Baby please” I tell a b***h to shut up you ’bout to f**k my nut up The label’s CEO keep beggin’ me to keep the gun up They know you play with Baby Baby beat him cut up Private plane Wi-Fi on the FaceTime with Johnny I told him ice my wrist up I like to hold my fist up How that boy DaBaby in the air not gettin’ his d**k su*ked? Why he keep the fire and throw them fours in every picture? ‘Cause n***a… Baby puttin’ on for the city Baby he the realest Baby prolly got a couple million Baby hang with four or five killers Baby got children Baby prolly still drug dealin Baby ain’t a trapper he a rapper Baby makin’ classics Baby in the hood gettin’ active Baby keep it real with his people Baby like a preacher Baby prolly still sell reeferrr