Bluffin (feat. Lil Baby)

(Kutta, cut that sh- up, man)

Switch the weather when I want, we at the other, other spot
Me and bro ain't swappin' out our jewels, this another watch
I get all types of bags in, I'm a different hot
Shroom sex on the private jet, this a different high

I'm with the clappers
Brodie changed his life but he an ex-kidnapper
Ain't tryna go there with you, weird-a- actors
Or rappers or whatever you call yourself
I got five cellphones, tell them n- to call my bluff

That lit - I don't post, I can't show them folks all of this stuff
Tighten up the business, I done killed and been ballin' it up
Older n- postin' motivation, they holdin' they -
Keep the windows clear, so them - can see the guts

Cutlass, she thinkin' I'm stubborn
But, baby, I'm the catch, I catch up with you when I can
Need a camera crew, everything we do, it should be on film
We came through a hundred deep, I seen you with your boyfriend

Horse playin', I was in a 'Rari, I was with a barbie, I had on Marni
I call her Lori, my new-new, yeah-yeah, my boo
I rap 'bout be all facts, I'm livin' out my truth
He think he this 'cause he bought that, bruh, I copped bruh one too

We havin' motions for real, plural, everybody gettin' money
I took off on n-, real bad, everybody act funny
Life a hard pill to swallow, n-, everybody gotta stomach
I tried to show n- the right way, so everybody leave the wrong way

I tried to lead by example, helped everybody get money
I quit lean and stopped gamblin', I'm an ex-codeine junkie (lean)
Stayed in motels with my family and did push-ups with my bunky
Used to work up off my brother 'nem, but I ain't never been no flunky (no)

Some n- tried me but couldn't call me, just a young n-, they jumped me
One n- still think he got one up on me, but his day still comin' (wow)
I don't make threats, no, I promise, I just drop bands like commas
Don't even ask me 'bout dead folks, 'cause I ain't got no comment (yeah)

I want my M's up to one, two, three, four, five one-hundred (go)
I ain't arguin' on no internet, I'm not Wack100 (no)
Miami, no shirt just to show off the tats on my stomach (man)
N- old and broke, and out of shape, it sick, make me vomit

It's been 18 years later and my stock still ain't plummet
Had to bet on myself, and made somethin' from nothin' (yeah)
N- sayin' they did this and that, for me, y'all ain't do nothin'
N- gon' throw they hand in and stop all that bluffin' (it's Gucci)



Credits
Writer(s): Radric Delantic Davis, Dominique Jones, Indyah Mcalister, Liam Barry Mcalister, Alfredo Matteucci, Zachary Mullet
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link