Outside Today lyrics

[Intro: Q Da Fool]
Na, f*ck all that
We ain't staying the the muhf*cking' house
We going outside

[Hook: Q Da Fool]
I ain't hiding from you bammas'
Let me feel some type of way
Put my n*gga on that camera
They gave him fifty years, day for day
If the n*gga hot, we gone' bake his cake
A hundred rounds in the wraith, im down to eight
A hundred Rich Shootahs' and they down to spray
f*ck up the show, my killers keep me safe
I hear you hoes talking, call it how you call it
I was just locked, but now i'm back to balling
I got that clean lean, wockaholic'
Say it's a problem, bet the goons solve it
Caught my opps slipping, that sh*t was a blessing
We looking, we searching, I swear we gone' catch him
Got a mop in my MAK, but I don't clean my mess up
b*tch its Hundred Round Goon, all that beef ain't no pressure
If they wrong, if they right
b*tch we gone' slide tonight
That beef sh*t get me hype
I'm not the rapper type
But I got that riper price
These n*ggas with hermaphrodites
Ain't no drive by
I'm the up close and personal type
[Verse 1: Q Da Fool]
Four or five hours, yeah the Perc working right
[?] cause them n*ggas working right
Stay loyal to the plug, and forever you're alright
OG got a hundred bricks, he always out of sight
Mama said, if you out of sight, you out of mind
Can't show you my stacks, but I could show you how to grind
Send my little brother money, he got caught up in a bind
Draco on my left, ARP on my right
Twenty-two three, seven-six-two intertwine
*If the plug got work turn the stash time*
Opposition never come to me, I gotta hold for mines
Give the n*gga all I got because the b*tch crossed the line
And I been shot a gun way before I spit a rhyme

Load up the gun, put on the mask, showtime, showtime
f*cking your hoe, she in the pace, you know she got slime
What im smoking? Grape, this cup purple ape, its tasting like wine
I come over quick, cause that n*gga fake, and I seen his signs
This sh*t happen everytime I drink the ACT before a line
I just came from Houston I f*cked her four times

[Hook: Q Da Fool]
I ain't hiding from you bammas'
Let me feel some type of way
Put my n*gga on that camera
They gave him fifty years, day for day
If the n*gga hot, we gone' bake his cake
A hundred rounds in the wraith, im down to eight
A hundred Rich Shootahs' and they down to spray
f*ck up the show, my killers keep me safe
I hear you hoes talking, call it how you call it
I was just locked, but now i'm back to balling
I got that clean lean, wockaholic'
Say it's a problem, bet the goons solve it
Caught my opps slipping, that sh*t was a blessing
We looking, we searching, I swear we gone' catch him
Got a mop in my MAK, but I don't clean my mess up
b*tch its Hundred Round Goon, all that beef ain't no pressure
If they wrong, if they right
b*tch we gone' slide tonight
That beef sh*t get me hype
I'm not the rapper type
But I got that riper price
These n*ggas with hermaphrodites
Ain't no drive by
I'm the up close and personal type