Outy When I Drive / Blamed lyrics

[Part I: Outy When I Drive]

[Intro]
(CashMoneyAP)
(Everything foreign, n*gga)

[Verse 1: Rich The Kid]
Ooh (Ayy)
Bro n*gga, she tell 'em, "Back, back" (Back, back)
Runnin' around with the rat pack (Huh)
That ass too fat, tell her back, back (What?)
Ain't doing no talkin', the choppa got kickback (Blat)
Ooh, ooh
She won't be my boo (My boo)
I was broke, now I got b*tches in my coupe (Huh)
Ooh, me and Breezy, fifty hoes, by the group (By the group)
That's yo' b*tch, she told a lie, ain't told the truth, ooh (Ain't told the truth)
I get her gone
f*ck her once, she won't pick up the phone (What?)
I send her home (Home)
Give me the dome, give me the dome

[Chorus: Chris Brown]
High-y, high-y, high
I'ma fly, I'ma flatline
Outy when I drive
Bring me up, b*tch, on both sides
Broke n*ggas always minus, wearin' designer
See me, I beat it out the linin', it'll f*ck ya spine up
High-y, high-y, high
Yeah, baby (Flatline)
Outy when I drive, flatline
High-y, high-y, high
Yeah, baby (Flatline)
Outy when I drive
b*tch, on both sides
[Verse 2: Chris Brown]
When I do the dash, b*tch, I swear that they mouth wide
Hunnids, countin' cash in a pair of them Off-White's
You need to bring your ass over here
If your n*gga wanna fight, b*tch, come outside
I'm off this Hennessy, too many shots
Don't give a f*ck
Ain't no excuses for bein' belligerent, just give me the bottle
Stop thinkin' about it, 'til I'm on the floor
Switchin' lanes, caught in the paint, off the backboard
Ain't no way I'ma change, pus*y got me goin'

[Chorus: Chris Brown]
High-y, high-y, high
I'ma fly, I'ma flatline
Outy when I drive
Bring me up, b*tch, on both sides
Broke n*ggas always minus, wearin' designer
See me, I beat it out the linin', it'll f*ck ya spine up
High-y, high-y, high
Yeah, baby (Flatline)
Outy when I drive, flatline
High-y, high-y, high
Yeah, baby (Flatline)
Outy when I drive
b*tch, on both sides
[Verse 3: Yella Beezy]
I say vroom, vroom
808s gon' make your body shake
Look, b*tch, boom, boom
And when I get you
I'ma knock that pus*y to the moon, moon
If he trippin', grab that Smith
And I'ma knock his brain loose
Do what you do
These hatin' n*ggas got it bad
n*gga talkin' tough until my lil' partner went shot his ass
And if you mention me, then you gon' end up in a body bag
Lil' mama, I ain't tryna f*ck if you ain't got a lot of ass
I need a lot of that, yeah-yeah

[Chorus: Chris Brown]
High-y, high-y, high
I'ma fly, I'ma flatline
Outy when I drive
Bring me up, b*tch, on both sides
Broke n*ggas always minus, wearin' designer
See me, I beat it out the linin', it'll f*ck ya spine up
High-y, high-y, high
Yeah, baby (Flatline)
Outy when I drive, flatline
High-y, high-y, high
Yeah, baby (Flatline)
Outy when I drive
b*tch, on both sides
[Part II: Blamed]

[Interlude]
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[Intro: Chris Brown]
Don't play me to the left
'Fore I pull up with that thing on me
I'm shootin', aimin' for the net
And ain't nobody finna bang on me

[Verse 1: Sage the Gemini]
Ayy, I just checked my bank account, I'm goin' dumb as f*ck
I point her in the right direction, tell her, "Run it up"
I put her in the Louis now, n*gga, want the 1's
But we don't fight
I take this .40 off my waist just like a tummy tuck
I don't speak much unless it's money, so (So)
If they don't know me personally, I don't take it personal
They love you when your wins high, let you know (Let you know)
But when your wins low, they treat you like a Urkel
I learn that family don't always matter (Yeah, woah)
I send these shots around your dome, now you silent (Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah)
Ayy, I'm just tryna buy me a big place (Big place)
I'm just tryna buy me a lawyer, help me beat the case
I'm just tryna f*ck you, let you lead the way (The way)
And if we can't make it to the bed, do it on the way

[Chorus: Chris Brown]
Don't play me to the left, no
'Fore I pull up with that thing all on me
I'm shootin', aimin' for the net, oh
And ain't nobody finna bang on me (No)
I got your b*tch, she comin' over (Woo!)
She gon' bring her friend too (Woo!)
They gon' pop and bend it over (Woo!)
Like that pus*y brand new
Get her an Uber when it's over
f*ck that, just hop up in the coupe
What you gon' do?
'Cause you can't really put the blame on me (No)

[Verse 2: Chris Brown]
If there's a problem, I'ma pop up, I'ma shoot out the roof
You need to stop it 'fore I make your mama really miss you
Ain't throwin' spirals, really big bullets and a couple missiles
I hit your b*tch up that Friday and I told her to choose
She told me, "Yeah, we on for the nightcap"
I know your n*gga won't like that
Get his cap killed and his life jacked
'Cause I don't take a day off
Hustle like every day is the Playoffs
Damn right, we f*ckin' winnin'
Don't like me, f*ck your feelings (Feelings)
Money up to the ceilin' (Ceilin')
Smoke weed, I'm up there with it (There with it)
Like murder, make a killin'
See murder for no limit
White people in my business
Black women give me kisses
With all these snitches, it ain't safe no more (More)
n*ggas sayin' names and they showin' up to court (Court)
I'ma take a shot, have one Newport
Before I light this b*tch up and shoot it off the backboard
You got me f*cked up

[Chorus: Chris Brown]
Don't play me to the left, no
'Fore I pull up with that thing all on me
I'm shootin', aimin' for the net, oh
And ain't nobody finna bang on me (No)
I got your b*tch, she comin' over (Woo!)
She gon' bring her friend too (Woo!)
They gon' pop and bend it over (Woo!)
Like that pus*y brand new
Get her an Uber when it's over
f*ck that, just hop up in the coupe
What you gon' do?
'Cause you can't really put the blame on me (No)

[Verse 3: Rich The Kid]
(Ooh, huh, huh, huh)
I might slide in it (Slide in it)
I like bad b*tches (Bad)
Bentley 350's (Skrrt)
I got three with me (Ooh)
It's a blame game (Blame game)
Let my chains swang (Swang)
I don't know her name (What?)
All these hoes the same (Yeah)
She want Chanel on her (Chanel)
Birkin bags, she was rockin' Saint Laurent (Woah)
I got the nail on her
f*ck her friend and she think I'ma tell her (Huh)
In my coupe, I got two
n*ggas mad I got the juice (Juice)
I'ma smash on your boo (Smash)
I got cash on me too
She won't play me to the left
I'm a rich n*gga to death (Death)
'Cause she gon' pull up with the neck
Boss up for a check (Check)
Know he want her
She got red bottoms on her (On her)
If I f*ck her two times, she a goner (Huh)

[Chorus: Chris Brown]
Don't play me to the left, no
'Fore I pull up with that thing all on me
I'm shootin', aimin' for the net, oh
And ain't nobody finna bang on me (No)
I got your b*tch, she comin' over
She gon' bring her friend too
They gon' pop and bend it over
Like that pus*y brand new
Get her an Uber when it's over
f*ck that, just hop up in the coupe
What you gon' do?
'Cause you can't really put the blame on me (No)