Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Im out Here, artist - Dusty McFlyDate of issue: 04.11.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Im out Here |
| Y’all should have a lil' nigga seminar |
| Look, I got some real niggas in the car |
| We 'bout to have a real nigga seminar |
| Look, you sleepin' get some NoDoz |
| Hit the set in cash, heavy bands, neph, I blow pros |
| Bitches taking photos of the Panamera 4-door |
| Yeah I’m flexin' wine, shit, but today is mine, bitch |
| Look, I’m Red Wing everything |
| (Man, I love that Red Wings chain) |
| Heavy thing |
| I can’t believe I done fed niggas |
| And they done turned around |
| And was some Fed niggas |
| If it ain’t about the profit, get the fuck on |
| If your bag ain’t exotic, get the fuck on |
| If you ain’t eatin' Benihanas, get the fuck on |
| Back the fuck back, lil' nigga, before I bust chrome |
| I’m out here (x 17) |
| Damn, what you on my dick for? |
| My nigga |
| That’s what I got your bitch for |
| Pull up to the club, ask that bitch what it’s hittin' for |
| Then I flex through |
| Looking like a walking lick though |
| I’m from Brightmo', I say Brightmo' |
| And my ice glow, lookin' like a light show |
| Fleez, what’s your ticket? |
| You don’t wanna know the price, bro |
| Ask Jose I love Cinco, de Mayo |
| Got your resume |
| I pulled your resume |
| Wouldn’t know what to do if I gave you a brick of llel' |
| Boy, why you on that bitch shit |
| You the type of nigga probably run and tell my bitch shit |
| That nigga got red |
| This jack in the frame |
| It’s like the chicken had eggs (whatchu mean?) |
| That’s how you triple that shit |
| Taxin' out of town niggas how I really got rich |
| Boy, I ain’t trippin' off no wrist work |
| Just give me a strainer |
| A mallet and a car, watch me ballin' like a Laker |
| Purps in that yellow but a pro, that’s what I shop with |
| If you ain’t got a dog, lil' fella you ain’t poppin' |
| You ain’t there yet, I can tell by your jewelry |
| I just play sweats, white T, flexin' two or three |
| Benzes, two or three, Bourbons |
| Nine or ten, choppers 'cuz fools make me |
| Nervous, asking all these stupid-ass questions like |
| Why weren’t you droppin', dawg? |
| Heard you got indicted, heard you caught another body part |
| Dawg you know I caught it, but I threw it back |
| Told the judge I’m at war |
| All that cash he cool with that, nigga |