out of sight (feat. 2 Chainz)

Ayy Ayy Run, run, here come the menaces to sobriety, like what? (What?) Super thuggers thumpin' on the cut What, what? My motherfuckin' Uzi weighs a ton Hit the drum 'til you hear it go, "Brrup-pum-pum-pum" Run, run, piety just really isn't us, what a rush See you cuttin' up a pie, that's my lunch Run your motherfuckin' pockets when I come It's an honor to be robbed by Denise's only son Yeah, ever ready baby boy, Betty movin' extra heavy Whippin' Chevy, gotta get it, eat spaghetti with the mafia Cuff vegan bitch and feed 'em dick 'Cause they don't eat no steak and lobster Sosa was my hero only, Tony's just a fuckin' Hawk-ster (out of sight) Out of mind, out of touch, out of time Man, I'll smoke a bogie backwards With thumb up like, "It's fine" (run) Secrets help, I say, selflessly divine Leave me here to drown in glory You're too good to cross that line (run, run) Tragically struck down in my prime By the speed at which the bags are dropping, should've watched the sky You don't wanna live this life, it's really not sublime I'm only doing what I want while hockin' loogies at the swine Out of sight (ayy) R-T-J, what you say? What you say? (Ayy) I don't give a fuck, out-out-out-out of sight (ayy) R-T-J, what you say? What you say? (Ayy) What you gonna do? What you gonna do? We the motivating, devastating, captivating Ghost and Rae relating product of the fuckin' '80s Coke dealin' babies, never regulating, bag accumulating It would not be overstating to say they are underrating The pride of Brooklyn and the Grady, baby We don't need no compliments or confidence Our attitude and latitude is, "Fuck you, pay me" Next summer, leather bombers, dookie ropes, and smokin' indica Ain't a team as mean and clean as J Meline and Michael Render, bruh TV got no temperature, even if it did Bitch, we cool as penguin pussy on the polar cap peninsula Colder than your baby mama heart (uh) When she find out you been fuckin' with that Other broad and you ain't got that rent for her I know you just about mcfuckin' had it, our shit is just magic Go figure the runts of the litter did it without scammin' Was fryin' in the fat of the land, now your man is mashin' We back of the class and laughin', you raisin' a hand and tattlin' Mike shitted in your locker, then left a note with a winky face Meet us at three o'clock if you wanna do something tragic We'll shrinky-dinky all of that yappin', it's automated The gears of the rapper shredder want action and it'll have it You know I'm poppin', a product of fuckin' poverty I'm cool as AC and you niggas, you just wannabes I slide on tracks like home plate Ride beats like road rage Got a crib in like four states, uh I get a text like, "Stay safe" Text back, "I miss that pussy, be home soon and I can't wait" I came from a dream, triple beam, and some gray tape (yeah) Assistant went shoppin', put my bags in the A8 Hello, Mr. Big Faith, the bank teller tryna get ranked I buy a hot dog stand if I'm tryna be frank Just left the hospital, makin' sure my nigga was straight And sent bail, couple dollars 'til they give him a date Tony Out of sight (ayy) R-T-J, what you say? What you say? (Ayy) I don't give a fuck, out-out-out-out of sight (ayy) R-T-J, what you say? What you say? (Ayy) What you gonna do? What you gonna do?