B.C.A Mike - Out Yo Body (feat. BCA Ealey)

Jump out yo body I got my blicky
I'm screaming fuck how this shit go
My 9 my bitch and ill get freaky with her
Ima finger fuck my hoe
These FN bullets they come from rifles
They piercing through yo car door
Run with that sack like number thirty four
Straight outta Jackson go get you a Bo
Aye turn the lights off we don't need em
I got some shiny on my wrist
Fuck niggas Bms for no reason
Then I check 'em off my list
These hoes be creeping on they own
Niggas dying behind this shit
So what the fuck I look like
Running round here tripping over a bitch
I jump in the coupe and you know it's push start
I roll up some cookies and it came out a jar
I roll up a wood while you stuffing a gar
My boy popped a bean and I'm leaning off bars
Don't think this shit sweet cause we flipping ya car
Ya talking that shit it won't get ya too far
Not know in the world in my hood ima star
Feel like i be spitting these niggas not hard
These nigga be slow I just pick up the paste
Then pick up ya bitch and go fuck on ha face
Lil bitch wanna lay up I can't I gotta play
My mind on the green and my gang BCA
I hit me a lick and I'm gone to the A
I feel like the Klan cause I'm counting up K's
I'm hard on a bitch I won't give her a hey
Unless she sucking some dick or bringing a play
I'm serving a P when I'm clutching my stick
My foot on they neck and designer my kicks
They thought I was out but I'm bussing down bricks
I been in trap and been plotting on some licks
Got the drop on a opp cause I'm fucking his bitch
I'm straight from the gutta yea straight from the sip
You play with the gang we gone end this shit quick
Just try to run off see how slimy shit gets
Jump out yo body I got my blicky
I'm screaming fuck how this shit go
My 9 my bitch and ill get freaky with her
Ima finger fuck my hoe
These FN bullets they come from rifles
They piercing through yo car door
Run with that sack like number thirty four
Straight outta Jackson go get you a Bo
Aye turn the lights off we don't need em
I got some shiny on my wrist
Fuck niggas Bms for no reason
Then I check 'em off my list
These hoes be creeping on they own
Niggas dying behind this shit
So what the fuck I look like
Running round here tripping over a bitch
I play my role
These hoes gone play you to the left
That's if you let 'em I play along
She come drop that head off then I'm gone
No text reply DND my phone
No text reply DND my shit
Say you got exotic nigga that ain't it
Middle fingers to a nigga or a bitch
Yea
Green beam on yo head like a LED
She got dumb brain call it GED
How you stepping but calling on JPD
I don't give a fuck tell em SMD
I hop out of the whip with a SMG
Swing this bitch with no caution you DIE
Get yo bitch cause she can't get enough of me
You want smoke let's get it
It's up with me
Want smoke let's get it we want it all
Nigga we can meet up and have a standoff
All these rack in my pockets can't carry no wallet
This money keep holding my pants down
I can give you some knowledge got Bo's of exotic
We get it and shipping it through the town
You can call twelve the feds or whoever
Let them bitches know it's man down if you
Jump out yo body i got my blicky
I'm screaming fuck how this shit go
My nine my bitch and ill get freaky with her
Ima finger fuck my hoe
These FN bullets they come from rifles
They piercing through yo car door
Run with that sack like number 34
Straight outta Jackson go get you a Bo
Aye turn the lights off we don't need em
I got some shiny on my wrist
Fuck niggas Bms for no reason
Then I check 'em off my list
These hoes be creeping on they own
Niggas dying behind this shit
So what the fuck I look like
Running round here tripping over a bitch

Written by:
BCA Ealey, Michael McGee

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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