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li rye - outta town كلمات الأغنية

[intro]
(juppy on the beat)
(k!ller goin’ crazy)
b_tch want me to go buy her a purse, still ain’t let me—

[chorus]
b_tch want me to go buy her a purse, but she ain’t let me f_ck
clutchin’ in the mall, thuggin’ with my dog, n_gga, got my pistol tucked
b_tch keep callin’ my phone talkin’ ’bout she love me, but i don’t give a f_ck
f_ck a seven, i’m tryna cash out on a maybach or a bentley truck
used to send shots out the backseat, now i’m sendin’ hits from outta town
can’t none of my opps go rack for rack, mike tyson, pound for pound
trackstar, we run him down
knock the b_tch out of bounds, shh, don’t make a sound
(hah, hah, hah, hah)

[verse]
i’m the reason mobile hot as f_ck and it’s the wintertime
bought that ho some taylor port, shе ate my d_ck, i call that wine and dine
my nеw b_tch twenty_five, f_ck i look like out here playin’ with a dime?
got my cross from audemars jewelry, not wafi, but they still shine
we ain’t no thieves, but we steal opps
he let us catch him lackin’, hahaha, then he got euthanized
slap a nat b_tch gettin’ on my nerves, i treat them hoes like flies
in all black like i’m plies, they don’t come outside, pray one day, we collide
if you gon’ slide, then hop up out that b_tch, we don’t do no drive_bys
dirty project b_tch, i clean that lil’ ho up with tide pods
went to jail a gangster, now his favorite color tie_dye
with this money, i make f_ck n_ggas disappear, screamin’, “voila”
uh, i believe in god, but some of my brothers pray to allah
plus he was a gangster, but his partners said that li rye worth the rah_rah
‘fore they had switches in the city, shootouts used to sound like fah, fah_fah, fah
now it sound like rrah_rrah
i ain’t with the rah_rah, b_tch, i’m tryna murder one
purple in my cup, but them lil’ babies, i ain’t never heard of one
four_five nineteen, left the big sh_lls in this b_tch, this ho my turtle gun
she got five kids, so i know that p_ssy good, she leave, n_gga’ll probably murder her
[chorus]
b_tch want me to go buy her a purse, but she ain’t let me f_ck
clutchin’ in the mall, thuggin’ with my dog, n_gga, got my pistol tucked
b_tch keep callin’ my phone talkin’ ’bout she love me, but i don’t give a f_ck
f_ck a seven, i’m tryna cash out on a maybach or a bentley truck
used to send shots out the backseat, now i’m sendin’ hits from outta town
can’t none of my opps go rack for rack, mike tyson, pound for pound
trackstar, we run him down
knock the b_tch out of bounds, shh, don’t make a sound
(hah, hah, hah, hah)

- li rye

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