Lyrics Baby Scale (with Yung Gleesh) - IDK, Yung Gleesh

Baby Scale (with Yung Gleesh) - IDK, Yung Gleesh
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Baby Scale (with Yung Gleesh), artist - IDK. Album song IWASVERYBAD, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 12.10.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: BMG Rights Management (US), Commission, HXLY
Song language: English

Baby Scale (with Yung Gleesh)

Look, let’s cut the bullshit, alright?
If you can hang, fine, if you can’t, pshh
Let’s not pretend anymore
(Yeah yeah yeah) Yeah, yeah
(R-r-r-run tings rude boy) Yeah, uhh
Baby scale mean balance, the Gabby Douglas of rap
The conscious nigga that can teach on trap
The one that everybody saying sound like this or that
But more or less, number one when I piss on tracks
I’m here, got my hand up in a class full of dummies
It’s funny, back then they ain’t want me now they still don’t want me
It’s funny, I’m still in the race with your major label signee
So I don’t need a TIP my attitude been on Tiny
You been origami, you been folding, filling your folders up
But still sleep I’m just scolding my eyes is never shut
Shut the fuck up, I fuck up a cup, I fuck up a check
And if you fuck with me then you know who that I’m fucking up next (you)
The best new nigga just clocked in, ching-ching
Nine out of ten new rappers, doo-doo rappers
They say lyrics ain’t cool no more, I’m like «Sheesh
I guess after this shit drop, I might peace» (Bye)
Deuces up with a deuce-deuce in my boot
I’ll never call it truce, I boom boom and then reply, oops (My bad)
I play the flute while you play your position
If your position is snake, I know when the playing’s finished
I know when the aim is different, I been shooting for stars
You just shooting for the money, I’m aiming to hit they hearts, flatline
I’m here to straighten all these rappers up, flat iron
They counted me out before we even hit halftime
Ha!
Run that shit from the top, fuck they talkin bout?
Aye Lo (kill Moe) yeah we might
Gleeshie, shit bag shawty and all that there mane
Cleanside’s finest, turn the music up
30 thousand dollars, been had it, been snatching, been crabbing
You know what I mean?
Cleanside
Go, hard, go, hard, go, hard, go, hard (fuck what you talkin bout?)
Go, hard, go, hard, go, hard, go, hard (fuck what you talkin bout?)
Go, hard, go, hard, go, hard, go, hard (fuck what you talkin bout?)
Go, hard, go, hard, go, hard, go, hard
Fuck what you talkin bout
I got the shotty mouth, I gotta chalk em out
I get my nigga Gleesh, he gonna stomp 'em out
Use to like love and peace, I like destruction now
I was in love wit her, we just be fucking now
Say you got work but I guess it ain’t working now
Say you got plugs, well I guess that the circuit out
I just be telling the truth, fuck the purpin' out
Any you niggas want beef then I’m servin' out (Steak!)
Free smoke, free smoke, ayy
Repo, repo, ayy
They take your chain, take your watch
Take your car, take your house, and your hoe, ayy
Where I’m from they don’t play, yuh
Hit a lick 'round the way, yuh
They rob ya, momma, kill yo mans
Shop at Costco all the same day
That’s the mentality
Them niggas be wildin' out, and that shit is sad to me
That’s just reality
So that’s why I don’t give a fuck if a rap nigga mad at me
I shed a tear and I blame it on allergies
Mama just died and I claim it don’t damage me
Meanwhile, emotions is breaking the man in me
Try to throw shade, and I’m breaking your canopy
I’m the best rapper where I’m from, nigga
Far as I’m concerned, nobody better
Fuck your analytics, fuck a stream
Fuck your team, I can walk a balance beam
When I sing, juggle, spit a sixteen and be humble
Struggled 2015 now I’m leveled
Even at the top level, I don’t settle
Working off the late night, Jimmy Kimmel
Just to be on Jimmy Kimmel, I’m tryna put everybody on
But I gotta put on myself first, I gotta get up my self-worth
I gotta filter the love and thirst, niggas be thinking the love is real
You gotta pop twenty Xanny pills just to probably know how a nigga feels
I don’t feel shit, if your ass is an enemy
Free flock, screaming STP, Rest In Peace
Falling off nigga that be the death of me
Everyone can get it, everyone’s a critic
When you this high, everyone’s one a midget
2010 yeah, J. Cole said it
Mama lookin' down, praying for a nigga
Next 30 days, Jay gon' get it, gone

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Artist lyrics: IDK
Artist lyrics: Yung Gleesh