Baby Scale (with Yung Gleesh) - Bonus Track

Look, let's cut the bullshit, alright?
If you can hang, fine
If you can't, pshh...
Let's not pretend anymore
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Uhh

Baby Scale mean balance
The Gabby Douglas of rap
The conscience nigga that can teach on trap
The one that everybody saying sound like this or that
But more or less, number one when I piss on tracks
I'm here, got my hand up in a class full of dummies
It's funny, back then they ain't want me
Now they still don't want me, its funny
I'm still in the race with your major label signee
So I don't need a TIP my attitude been on Tiny
You been origami
You been folding, filling your folders up
But still sleep I'm just scolding my eyes is never shut
Shut the fuck up, I fuck up a cup, I fuck up a check
And if you fuck with me then you know who that I'm fucking up next (You)
The best new nigga just clocked in, ching-ching
Nine out of ten new rappers, doo-doo rappers
They say lyrics ain't cool no more, I'm like sheesh
I guess after this shit drop I'm might peace (Bye)
Deuces up with a deuce-deuce in my boot
I'll never call it truce, I boom boom and then reply, oops (My bad)
I play the flute while you play your position
If your position is snake, I know when the playing finished
I know when the aim is different
I been shooting for stars
You just shooting for the money
I'm aiming to hit they hearts, flatline
I'm here to straighten all these rappers up, flat iron
They counted me out before we even hit halftime

HA! Run that shit from the top
Fuck they talkin bout. Ay Lo (kill moe), yea we might
Gleetchie, shit bag shawty and all that there mane
Cleansides finest, turn the music up
30 thousands dollars, been had it, been snatching, been crabbing
You know what I mean? Cleanside
Go, hard, go, hard, go, hard, go, hard (fuck what you talkin bout)
Go, hard, go, hard, go, hard, go, hard (fuck what you talkin bout)
Go, hard, go, hard, go, hard, go, hard (fuck what you talkin bout)
Go, hard, go, hard, go, hard, go, hard

Fuck what you talkin bout
I got the shotty mouth
I gotta chalk em out
I get my nigga Gleesh, he gonna stomp 'em out
Use to like love and peace, I like destruction now
I was in love wit her, we just be fucking now
Say you got work but I guess it ain't working now
Say you got plugs, well I guess that the circuit out
I just be telling the truth, fuck the purpin' out
Any you niggas want beef then I'm servin' out (steak!)
Free smoke, free smoke (aye)
Repo, repo (aye)
They take your chain, take your watch, take your car, take your house, and your hoe (aye)
Where I'm from they don't play (yuh)
Hit a lick around the way (yuh)
They rob ya momma, kill yo mans, shop at Costco all the same day
That's the mentality
Them niggas be wildin' out, and that shit is sad to me
But that's just reality
So that's why I don't give a fuck if a rap nigga mad at me
I shed a tear, and I blame it on allergies
Mama just died and I claim it don't damage me
Meanwhile, emotions is breaking the man in me
Try to throw shade, and I'm breaking your canopy
I'm best rapper where I'm from nigga
Far as I'm concerned, nobody better
Fuck your analytics, fuck a stream
Fuck your team, I can walk a balance beam
When I sing, juggle
Spit a 16, and be humble
Struggled 2015, now I'm leveled
Even at the top level, I don't settle
Working off the late night, Jimmy Kimmel
Just to be on Jimmy Kimmel
I'm tryna put everybody on
But I gotta put on myself first
I gotta get up my self-worth
I gotta filter the love and thirst
Niggas be thinking the love is real
You gotta pop 20 Xanny pills
Just to probably know how a nigga feels
I don't feel shit
If your ass is an enemy
Free flock, screaming STP
Rest In Peace
Falling off nigga that be the death of me
Everyone can get it, everyone a critic
When you this high, everyone one a midget
2010 yeah, J. Cole said it
Mama lookin' down, praying for a nigga
Next 30 days, Jay gone get it
Gone



Credits
Writer(s): Jason Aaron Mills, Vaquan Lemonte Wilkins, Yung Gleesh
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link