Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Lil Baby
Lil Baby
Vocals
DaBaby
DaBaby
Vocals
Wheezy
Wheezy
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Dominique' Jones
Dominique' Jones
Songwriter
Jonathan L. Kirk
Jonathan L. Kirk
Songwriter
Wesley “Wheezy” Tyler Glass
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Wheezy
Wheezy
Producer
Thomas “Tillie” Mann
Mixing Engineer
Colin Leonard
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Wheezy outta here
[Verse 2]
Yeah, rest in peace to BankRoll, show 'em how to do it
Baby goin' crazy, he been gettin' straight to it
I done caught so many flights, I end up fuckin' all the stewardesses
Catch me in Atlanta, no security with my jewelry
Found out I'm rich, my baby mama talkin' suin' me
'Nother bitch tellin' lies on the pussy like she screwin' me
Catch him down bad, that's his ass, ****, you or me
SI diamonds on the chain, he ain't foolin' me
We was skipping school on the train, duckin' truancy
My main partner turned into a rat, he talkin' 'bout robbin' me
I pray the judge give that boy a bond so I can pop him
[Verse 3]
We was in the hood, sellin' bags, shootin' choppers
I done fucked around and tried to go and lease a helicopter
Baby really a problem, somebody gotta stop him
Man, the haters watchin' too hard, I think they got binoculars
Every **** with me on go, it ain't no stopping us
**** actin' like they got the bag, I'm tryna stop it up
Do this for the bros down the road, gotta lock it up
All you gotta do is say it's smoke, then we poppin' up
Baby got the streets on hold, why he ain't drop yet?
I've been goin' hard, it's gon' be hard for you to top that
I make it look easy, but this shit really a process
I'm really a millionaire, still in the projects
[Chorus]
Baby puttin' on for the city
Baby he the realest
Baby prolly got a couple million
Baby hang with four or five killers
Baby got children
Baby prolly still drug dealin'
Baby ain't a trapper, he a rapper
Baby makin' classics
Baby in the hood gettin' active
Baby keep it real with his people
Baby like a preacher
Baby prolly still sellin' reefer
[Verse 4]
Baby prolly still got them bows
I tell my bitch I'm faithful, but I still got the hoes
Baby gettin' jiggy, on stage with the glizzy
Baby CEO, he shake the game like he Diddy
You would think it's Mardi Gras, I got these bitches showin' titties
And I ain't throwin' beads, pull them bitches weaves
Style them bitches out, if I'm a dog, then she a flea
And when I fuck her doggy-style the only time I'm on my knee
I barely wanna hit her, got her beggin' "Baby, please!"
I tell the bitch to shut up, you 'bout to fuck my nut up
The label CEO keep beggin' me to keep the gun up
They know, you play with Baby, Baby beat him, cut up
Private plane, wifi on the FaceTime with Johnny
I told him ice my wrist up, I like to hold my fist up
How that boy Da Baby in the air now gettin' his dick sucked?
Why he keep that fire and throw them fours in every picture? 'Cause ****
[Verse 5]
Baby puttin' on for the city
Baby he the realest
Baby prolly got a couple million
Baby hang with four or five killers
Baby got children
Baby prolly still drug dealin'
Baby ain't a trapper, he a rapper
Baby makin' classics
Baby in the hood gettin' active
Baby keep it real with his people
Baby like a preacher
Baby prolly still sellin' reefer
Written by: DaBaby, Dominique' Jones, Wesley Glass
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