Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Outchea, artist - Bad Lucc
Date of issue: 10.02.2014
Song language: English
Outchea |
We talkin' licks, and not to give my brother ball back |
Press the line and I’ma whippin' like a grand daddy |
Spillin' vodka, got the choppa in the grand Natty |
107 were them hustlers on that gunplay |
Outchea nothing, turn your block into a runway |
I’m suited up, I sprinkled of molly over 7 grams |
They turned a nigga to a ghost over 7 bands |
My 5−0-1's hangin, chain swingin |
From the prevlass to the Raymonds — gang bangin |
Southern Cali with the drop, man the greats revealed |
We ain’t gonna steal your collar nigga, buck a bill |
No bueno, the Sanos, a bunch of Canos |
Rip out your heart and they been A-Holes since last patranos |
Watch bread I’mma poppin like a K move |
Diamond Lane official, O T L Gang too |
Yea I’m outchea (hustlin') |
I’m outchea (grindin') |
I’m outchea (stuffin') |
I’m outchea (rollin') |
I’m outchea (geekin') |
I’m outchea (roosted) |
I’m outchea (beastin') |
Nigga, I’m outchea (mean) |
Nigga, I’m outchea (mean) |
Nigga, I’m outchea |
Aye aye aye aye fuck all that shit nigga |
You already know what my shit do |
Line that shit up my nigga, yea that |
T-T-Topic of discussion — where the gang moves |
Whippin' through the city like I can’t loose |
I be outchea with a bad one in the zip and kill her |
I tell that bitch you seen my bitch? |
You better keep it realer |
They keep mob close, breaking down a couple grams |
You hit the city with the blam like the Son of Sam |
Knock a nigga out his shoes for the scheming |
Then he is cripping in his blood, bring a demon |
Beamin', leanin', hangin', maintainin' |
I pull your bitch up in this lane and she name changing |
Fatty boostin', man I’m pilin' up the molly damn |
My brother Blackie pulled a Mexi and she probly down |
To let us get it, call me if she with it |
B A D, I’m bout that business, they only fit it |
I born fully, never fail, I’m about the nail |
Out the gate fresh as hell like I’m outchea |
Ayo Prob, ayo Prob |
Check this shit out my nigga, I got sum for you |
I’m going big on these busters, I do my thing fully |
Runnin up on these hoes, go tag my name cutie |
I’m getting money persona, yea I’m bent like a comma |
And I stay with that Bud like my name Rudy |
Straight serve, rollin rollin big |
Suburban, urban, diamond my lane, nigga swerving |
2013, this a turn up, a wrap |
I still don’t give a fuck like the burglars (brah!) |
M-M-My candle, be ridin like a 4 door |
Copton California boy, I came about the photo |
A nigga play me homo, I used him as a promo |
Bomb first, bomb worse, now go and let your bro low |
The problem ain’t havin' it, grind so passionate |
Hide in the kitchen, special K’s in the cabinet |
Pull and get to grabbing it, like fuckin' let me at em |
Cyber thugs tweetin' bout me but they never ever had em |