DJ Clue, Guapdad 4000, Rjae, Reuben Vincent and Humble Soles - Outsiders

Feel like God in the booth
This nigga standing right behind me
Oh, the vibes is real
Inshallah
Uh-huh (yeah)
You gotta roll one to this, baby
Where that monogram at?

Fuck you niggas, I'm the next greatest
Toxic boy, I'm my ex favorite
They want static, it can get major (ooh)
Never ask for no favors, only did the work
You only did the worst, you better off in a hearse, huh
Dead on arrival, tactic survival
Ask your idol, they fear me
I spin on 'em like a ballet recital
Two two's, Emmitt Smith, man, my bebop cowboys serving re-rock
Me stock going up like Dow Jones, huh
Ninth got another threat
Guru got another gem
Heard them boys want amends
Really, I don't fuck with them (uh-huh)
Tryna cop an Aston Martin
Color of Ashton Kutcher's skin
Sharp tongue, razor in my mouth, Pac, above the rim
Three little birdies sang to me when I was down and out
That if you want to make the wave, I gotta drown 'em out
Fuck the number game, you niggas cannot count me out
Remember summers when we had a drought
Like Wayne, I'm going no ceilings
From me, she get no feelings (woo-hoo)
I'm no dentist, they show teeth when they know you winning, huh
I ain't gon' stop 'til they show forgiveness, for real, for real
And I ain't Kalan but know my niggas for real, for real
Prophecy said soldier and the protector
Code of the jungle is built off respect
You niggas aim for the chest
Your mate getting checked
You know the king came to protect
It's Queen city, bitch, we aim at the rest (uh)

We sing, "La-da-da-da-da-da"
Know my niggas outside
Outside, outside
Outside, outside
La-da-da-da-da-da
Know my niggas gon' ride (yeah, oh, yeah)
Ride-da, ride-da now (yeah)
Outside, outside, now (yeah)

I'm outside, looking like a bitch future baby father
I get a lot of dollars, Guap getting guala-guala (it's a check)
Passionfruit and guava, like mimosas, I'ma swallow (mimosas)
Young models and bitches old as Nelly Furtado (huh)
South Africa like I do amapiano (huh)
Dark skin women got me sending big, I'ma be honest (chocolate)
Need 'em in my whip, crib, bed, and lobbies (what?)
Twitter, YouTube, TikTok and 'Gram comments (they going in)
The world so cold but all my kicks heat
Give a bitch the cold shoulder and never the cold feet (it's scary)
I'm the locksmith in the Matrix with all the gold keys
Even the one can't go through the door without me
Keep my business straight like the line from a crease
Came out the cave to eat 'cause the lion been asleep
Twin Glocks out the box, got a Siamese piece
Bitch, I'm O-U-T-S-I-D-E (outside)
The P's pop when I talk
If we ain't poppin', who poppin'?
I know her man follow me, I ain't bother to block him
I got an open mind, still make a bitch come and part it
Dopest artist, carve it open, Oakland to Charlotte (huh)
Used to steal out of Walmart, now I know the target
Go to target, fixed in the land of the broken artist (broke)
Broke records, broke hearts, and being broken-hearted
Outside for my niggas who dead and so departed like

La-da-da-da-da-da
Know my niggas outside
Outside, outside
Outside, outside
La-da-da-da-da-da
Know my niggas gon' ride
Ride-da, ride-da now
Outside, outside, now

Written by:
Akeem Douglas Hayes, Ramon Hodges, Reuben Vincent

Publisher:
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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