Lyrics OUTERSPACE - Don Toliver, Baby Keem

OUTERSPACE

This the 7−1-3 motherfuckin' Don T
Ayy, this your boy, Cardo, man
Me and Keem just touched down in H-Town
Know what I’m talkin' 'bout?
Ayy, man, come pick us up in one of those SLABS, you know what I’m sayin'?
One of them shits with the elbows hangin' out
Ayy, tap in
I say, «What's up, man?
It’s Booman, I’m back again»
Let your friends know, can you braid my hair like Iverson’s?
I’m just playin', woah, I got movie hoes, top actresses on the channel
Most of my hoes know how to play the piano
Bitch, I’m movin' stealth, just ask yourself, have you seen me?
«He got two hoes, oh, shit, he’s Baby Keemy»
You went too long, and you know it’s time to see me
In and out the state, yeah, this shit up for take, yeah
You mistreat that ho, make her feel out of place, yeah
That’s a big mistake, I cannot relate, huh
Me and my girl movin' at a pace, hmm
If that shit movin' too fast, I hit the brakes
I said, «What's up, ho?
It’s boolin', I’m back again»
Tell your friend though, I can see the money through the lens
I’m just sayin', though, know my baby really top ten
Pushin' that powder Benz off of that cash that I thought I spent (Uh-huh)
'82 Rolls (Yeah-yeah), twenty-one wins (Yeah-yeah)
I’ma let you go in peace, but I see it how I see
Baby, keep on callin', huh, controllin' me
But I, I can never lie, only way to try
I cannot decide, middle of July
Oh, oh-oh
Oh-yeah, yeah-yeah
Ooh-ooh
Ooh
Ten toes down, and I’m schemin' and shit
Eviction notice, lil' bih, get off my penis and shit, yeah
I’m the type to talk about my demons and shit
Tennis chains on, feelin' like Serena and shit
I got stripes, I got rank
I’ma run down on an opp, I call it a flank (Flank)
Bet I cop that choppa, nigga, know I’m shootin' off, these ain’t blanks (Gah,
gah, gah)
I’ve been movin' in silence (Yeah), I’m known to keep it private
I condone the violence (Yeah), if you play with me, I’m slidin'
Money like that, I’ll spend it for ya (Money like that, I’ll spend it for ya)
When I want you back, but I can’t employ ya (Want you back, yeah)
Gotta keep that strap like a militant soldier (Gotta keep that strap, militant)
And you smokin' that dope, right there, I sold ya
I thought I told ya (Ooh, ooh)
I gotta run through the fire, I need a ho like Mariah
I wanna swerve with the tire, I make the family retire
I gotta see the hope, be the way
I gotta free the folks where I lay
I gotta show the light to the weak
Dodgin' the fake woke in L.A.