Gabey Baby - Double Dutch
Cup runeth overPouring up some Burgundy
Running though the streets
I'm seeing murder in the third degree
The government ain't heard of me
Give your word to me
The only thing they know
Is that I'm dressed in Thomas Burberry
My mind is full of arsonists
They burning me
Lumberjacks and leather jackets
Chopping at my vertebrae
Plates on plates of lobster
Calamari what they serving me
Poisoned with a tab of Lucy
Tryna get a word from me
I ain't out here grinding just to work to be
Another cog up in the system
Wylin, working worthlessly
Music with no purpose is the shit
Thats trying to burden me
The world is never hurting me
Fuck you and your clergy, B
Man, Jesus need to learn from me.
Get a check
I run it up (ya, ya, ya)
Tryna flex
I fuck it up
Make it jump like double dutch
Get a check
I run it up (ya, ya, ya)
Tryna flex
I fuck it up
Make it jump like double dutch
Sell yo ass a brick
Then I go and fuck your bitch
Push the gas
Hit the switch
Drop her at BK
Then I ditch
'Cause a bitch is just a bitch
And a ho is just a ho
Yeah, she know how it go
I hit her with the nasty flow, what
Rolling on my papers
And I ain't fuck with vapors
Get my bitches different flavors
And the love doing me favors
Yeah, this shit is straight official
Word is law, call me judicial
Spell is real, you artificial
Check yourself, it's beneficial
Yeah, my trap bumping
And the birds singing
Pull up in that new two three
The whole team winning
Take off, yeah we at the top climbing
Mixing molly with the syrup
And my team start wylin', uh
Yeah, block crazy off the new dope
Quit playing with this shit
Cut a new throat
Drop top and skrt skrt
Brand new mazi
Geting oil money
We out in Abu Dhabi
Get a check
I run it up (ya, ya, ya)
Tryna flex
I fuck it up
Make it jump like double dutch
Get a check
I run it up (ya, ya, ya)
Tryna flex
I fuck it up
Make it jump like double dutch
Written by:
Eddie Jordan, Gabriel Schwartz, John Velardo
Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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