Lyrics Out The Bowl - TrapMoneyBenny, 21 Savage, Key!

Out The Bowl

Just in case y’all niggas didn’t know
We the man round here nigga!
One time, lil lavish nigga
(Hoodrich Bitch!)
When she give me head she gon' use both hands
Hey!
Hey!
And ya know, hey, hey
I’m the man, hey
Oh I’m in the club and I’m doing the stale face, ok
Hey, why ya mad?
I’m just here to get the check please
Hey, I need my check please!
Try to check me, you gon need a check please!
And the fuckin Glock become designer
Niggas rockin' Glocks like that shit designer!
Ok, if I pull mine Ima fuckin design ya!
Ok, leave you chopped up like some fuckin' lasagna
Ok, keep the piece, I’ve been tryna keep the peace
You can clear the fuckin' streets that’s why I’m tryna keep the peace
Ay, I got a money recipe
Ay, they can’t work for you, hell, you can work for me
She love me cause I get it out the bowl
Ima real nigga rockin' real gold
But little do she know
I’m just tryna get her out them clothes
Bitch!
20 bands in my hands Ima make these bitches do the Macarena
Ay, Ima real street nigga, I be damned if I pay you for a feature!
Mamacita!
I wanna meet ya!
Smokin' reefer (gas! gas!), I keep my heater
I met her in the club, I knew she was a cheater (cheating bitch)
I can fuck you baby girl but I can’t keep you
Yeah, Ima liar, Ima dog, she a silly bitch
She always call my phone with that silly shit!
You ain’t talkin money?
hang the phone up (what?)
You ain’t talkin money nigga?
hold up (what?)
You ain’t talkin money nigga?
pour up (w-what?)
Got it out the bowl with the cola