Outy When I Drive / Blamed (feat. Rich the Kid, Yella Beezy & Sage the Gemini)
Chris Brown
R&B/Soul
34,204
Créditos
Artistas intérpretes
Chris Brown
Voces
Rich The Kid
Voces
Yella Beezy
Voces
Sage the Gemini
Voces
COMPOSICIÓN Y LETRA
Chris Brown
Autoría
Alex Petit
Autoría
Patrizio Pigliapoco
Autoría
Aaron Rogers
Autoría
Michael "Foreign Teck" Hernandez
Autoría
Nigel Sparkes
Autoría
Rashad Johnson
Autoría
Kevin Gomringer
Autoría
Tim Gomringer
Autoría
Dimitri Roger
Autoría
Dominic Wynn Woods
Autoría
Producción e ingeniería
CashMoneyAp
Producción
The Breed
Producción
Foreign Teck
Producción
Patrizio Pigliapoco
Ingeniería de mezcla
Cubeatz
Producción
Soundz
Coproducción
Chris Athens
Masterización
Ashley Jackson
Asistente de ingeniería
Letra
[Verse 1]
Ay, boujee shit, tell 'em back back
Runnin' around with the rat pack
That ass too fat, tell her back back
Ain't doin' no talkin', choppa got kick back
Ooh, ooh
[Verse 2]
She won't be my boo
I was broke, now I got bitches in my coupe
Me and Breezy, fifty hoes, by the group
That's yo bitch, she told a lie, ain't told the truth
I get her gone
Fuck her once, she won't pick up the phone
I send her home
Give me the dome, give me the dome
[Verse 3]
High
I'ma fly, I'ma flatline
Outy when I drive
Bring me up, bitch, on both sides
Broke **** always minus, wearin' designer
See me, I beat it out the line, and it'll fuck ya spine up
[Verse 4]
High
Yeah, baby
(Flatline)
Outy when I drive
Flatline
High
Yeah, baby
(Flatline)
Outy when I drive
Bitch, on both sides
[Verse 5]
When I do the dash, bitch, I swear that they mouth wide
Hunnids, countin' cash in a pair of them off-whites
You need to bring your ass over here
If yo **** wanna fight, bitch, come outside
I'm off this Hennessy, too many shots, don't give a fuck
Ain't no excuses for bein' belligerent, just gimme the bottle
Stop thinkin' about it, till I'm on the floor
Switchin' lanes, caught in the paint, off the backboard
Ain't no way I'ma change, pussy got me goin'
[Verse 6]
High
I'ma fly, I'ma flatline
Outy when I drive
Bring me up, bitch, on both sides
Broke **** always minus, wearin' designer
See me, I beat it out the line, and it'll fuck ya spine up
[Verse 7]
High
Yeah, baby
(Flatline)
Outy when I drive
Flatline
High
Yeah, baby
(Flatline)
Outy when I drive
Bitch, on both sides
[Verse 8]
I say vroom, vroom
808 gon' make your body shake
Look bitch, boom boom
And when I get you, I'ma knock that pussy to the moon, moon
If he trippin', grab that Smith
And I'ma knock his brain loose
Do what you do
These hatin' **** got it bad
**** talkin' tough into my lil condo and shot his ass
And if you mention me, then you gon' end up in a body bag
Lil mama, I ain't tryna fuck you, you ain't got a lot of ass
I need a lot of that, yeah, yeah
[Verse 9]
High
I'ma fly, I'ma flatline
Outy when I drive
Bring me up, bitch, on both sides
Broke **** always minus, wearin' designer
See me, I beat it out the line, and it'll fuck ya spine up
[Verse 10]
High
Yeah, baby
(Flatline)
Outy when I drive
Flatline
High
Yeah, baby
(Flatline)
Outy when I drive
Bitch, on both sides
[Verse 11]
Ay, I just checked my bank account, I'm goin' dumb as fuck
I point her in the right direction, tell her, "Run it up"
I put her in the Louis line, ****, one-to-ones
But we don't fight, I take this .40 off my waist just like a tummy tuck
I don't speak much unless it's money, so
If they don't know me personally, I don't take it personal
They love you when you wins high, let you know
But when your wins low, they treat you like an Urkel
[Verse 12]
I learned that family don't always matter
I send these shots around your dome, now you silent
I'm just tryna buy me a big place
I'm just tryna buy me a lawyer, help me beat the case
I'm just tryna fuck you, let you lead the way
And if we can't make it to the bed, do it on the way
[Verse 13]
Don't play me to the left, no
'Fore I pull up with that thing on me
I'm shootin', aimin' for the neck, oh
And ain't nobody finna bang on me
I got your bitch, she comin' over
She gon' bring her friend, too
They gon' pop and bend it over
Like that pussy brand new
Get her an Uber when it's over
Fuck that, just hop up in the coupe
What you gon' do?
'Cause you can't really put the blame on us
[Verse 14]
If there's a problem, I'ma pop up, I'ma shoot out the roof
You need to stop it before I make your mama really miss you
Ain't throwin' spirals, really big bullets, and a couple missiles
I hit your bitch up that Friday and I told her to choose
She told me, "Yeah, we on for the nightcap"
I know your **** won't like that
Get his cap killed and his life jacked
'Cause I don't take a day off
Hustle like every day is the playoffs
Damn right, we fuckin' winnin'
Don't like me? Fuck your feelings
Money up to the ceiling
Smoke weed, I'm up there with it
Like murder, make a killin'
See murder for no limit
White people in my business
Black women give me kisses
[Verse 15]
With all these snitches, it ain't safe no more
**** sayin' names and they showin' up to court
I'ma take a shot, had one before
Before I light this bitch up and shoot it off the backboard
You got me fucked up
[Verse 16]
Don't play me to the left, no
'Fore I pull up with that thing on me
I'm shootin', aimin' for the neck, oh
And ain't nobody finna bang on me
[Verse 17]
I got your bitch, she comin' over
She gon' bring her friend, too
They gon' pop and bend it over
Like that pussy brand new
Get her an Uber when it's over
Fuck that, just hop up in the coupe
What you gon' do?
'Cause you can't really put the blame on us
[Verse 18]
I might slide in it
I like bad bitches
Bentley 350's
I got three with me
It's a blame game
Let my chains swang
I don't know her name
All these hoes the same
She want Chanel on her
Birkin bags, she was racking sale on 'em
I got the nail on her
Fuck her friend and she think I'ma tell on her
[Verse 19]
In my coupe, I got two
**** mad I got the juice
I'ma smash on your boo
I got cash on me, too
She won't play me to the left
I'm a rich **** to death
She gon' pull up with the neck
Boss up for a check
Know he want her
She got red bottoms on her
If I fuck her two times, she a goner
[Verse 20]
Don't play me to the left, no
'Fore I pull up with that thing on me
I'm shootin', aimin' for the neck, oh
And ain't nobody finna bang on me
[Verse 21]
I got your bitch, she comin' over
She gon' bring her friend, too
They gon' pop and bend it over
Like that pussy brand new
Get her an Uber when it's over
Fuck that, just hop up in the coupe
What you gon' do?
'Cause you can't really put the blame on us
Written by: Aaron Rogers, Alex Petit, Chris Brown, Dimitri Roger, Dominic Woods, Kevin Gomringer, Michael "Foreign Teck" Hernandez, Michael F. Hernandez, Nigel Sparkes, Patrizio Pigliapoco, Rashad Johnson, Tim Gomringer
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