Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Outchea, artist - Bernz. Album song Sorry For The Mess, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 03.12.2020
Record label: Strange
Song language: English
Outchea |
Alright let’s do it one more time before we get the fuck outta here |
Ay, check it |
Hey, you know who this is |
Check it |
And it feels like a summertime barbeque |
Every time I go 'head and get lost with you |
Every time we in bed, it’s a rendezvous |
Every lie we confess just to hide the truth |
Tryna hear what they whisper when we leave the room |
Tryna paint every picture they seem to assume |
So we take every issue that they got on lieu |
And let 'em know we so fly that we flew the coupe |
You know what they say, better take it slow |
Even though we both the type to say we seen it all |
Homie asking what it’s like to hear your voice recorded |
Turn around and hear him singing every single chord |
I tell him everything is everything, enjoy the ride |
He dropped his first album and he damn near cried |
Thought the money and the fame came next, that’s why |
See the thing about numbers is they just can’t lie |
I been at it all day, living off each phrase |
And I know it ain’t much but it’s mine to trade |
Every time I think back to the things we braved |
I feel proud that we’re still surfing our own wave |
And when I look around, it’s crazy just how quick things change |
Even though I’m still as hungry as I was first day |
Every single thing I said would happen all took place |
So I just got one thing to say |
Motherfuckers really out here, ay |
Yeah, I’m keeping on pace |
Motherfuckers really out here, baby |
Yeah, we keeping on pace |
And it goes |
One for the game, two for the fame |
Three for the dames, four for the hate |
Do it till you die |
One for the greats, two for the fakes |
Three for the saints, four for my faith |
Put 'em to the sky |
No time to waste, keep on your pace |
These are the days, love everywhere, you seem to make me smile |
Every time I’m with you, I be losing track of time |
Like I got a son in my eye |
Like the motherfuckers out here |
Come on, come on, come on |
Feels like the first night I laid eyes on you |
Tried to front like you was hard with all that attitude |
Tried to tell me you was leaving just a dance or two |
But by the end of the night, I was passing through |
I got my homie number Seven, on the amplitude |
After losing couple legends to the avenues |
But I’ma save y’all the tears and the platitudes |
Long as you save me a beer and a plate of food |
I never said I was the greatest, just to glamour you |
Never said I was the best without a stat to prove |
Got a blemish in my arm well beyond that I’m cool |
Plus I know it be hard forgetting how we act a fool |
Shit I be on keep you young, feeling brave new |
Ain’t tryna front for the cameras or the back view |
After you hear me, I stay on you like a tattoo |
So I just got one thing to say |
Motherfuckers really out here |