Baby C4 - Hop Out (feat. $oni 8)

Hop out with the gang
Hop out with the gang
Remember Trues was on my ass and now this shit Balmain
Can't trust nobody in this life, I went through too much pain
Once when I touch an M, I flood the wrist and cop a chain
If that hoe tricking, I bet that bitch just want the fame
Won't catch me slipping, you fuck around, I'm gon' leave a stain
They souls be lifting, you know my boys gon' let it rain
And when y'all speaking bout the best, then y'all gon' say our name
Walk in the spot, bitch I'm lipping, cause I'm toting heavy
I got my chopper like Lil' Caesars, bullets hot and ready
This world get cold, but I'm colder, bitch I'm cold like Yeti
I fuck her till she flood the floors, I swear that shit too wetty
That's my lil' baby, make sure all her pockets 4PF
Feel like Lil' Durk with all my fam, this shit like OTF
But this shit OTG, obsessed with chasing money
This shit feel like OCD, slide with no remorse, can't show no mercy
That's on G.O.D., And we got Mac 11s
They send them souls to heaven, feel like MJ in Seven
I'm moving smart, so I won't step if I ain't tote my weapon
We be them ones, throw them ones up, we don't come in second
Ayy, Hop out with the gang
Hop out jewelry swing it glisten
My boy got eyes just like a Hawk his aim came with precision
The way I'm putting these hits out, bitch I feel like new edition
Keep that chopper, just in case, gotta let shit bang with these extensions
Bitch, like 1942, we give them shots
I keep that weight around my neck, it's like I'm doing squats
I'm solo stepping, most the time, bitch I feel like Lil' Yachty
My nigga eight that boy up next, we going up them charts
Ayy, never fake, keep it real
Making plays in the field
Bust down, want a richard mil
Niggas snake for the thrill
Ain't no fear, bitch I'm with the gang like ten to one
Them niggas said they posted, we ain't hiding, they ain't spraying none
Two bitches on my dick, I feel like Pac, I might just hit them up
I call my bullets J. too hot like coal, I just can't get enough
Hop out with the gang, Hop out with the gang
If I'm steady on the chase, they on the same thing
If a nigga fuck the image, then the gang bang
You ain't my blood, you ain't my dreads, so you can't fucking hang
Two tone, wrist on, neck on, froze
Ten opps, one gang, wipe his nose
Bodies dropping, cases closed
Fuck around with the gang, we send them shots and them caskets closed
Better step with your 30, cause my niggas shooting like Golden State
Been repping that set with that boy eight, you know we bury weight
Been the best in my city, blowing like a rocket, tryna put on for take
Love chasing that money, I don't chase hoes cause they chase none but bank

Written by:
Jovan Carpenter, Kevin Harris

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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