A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Babyface Ray

"Didn't Panic"

[Chorus: Babyface Ray]
Rich habits, rich dancing
b*tch badder, been planted
Police kicked my door and I didn't panic
Twenty pints of drop in my kitchen cabinet
Bought it for the low and made it flip backwards
Hide your lil' ho before I kidnap her
Word through the grapevine, n*ggas just rappers
Man, this sh*t ain't new to me, boy, I been havin'

[Verse 1: Babyface Ray]
Fake ass n*ggas, stay a long way from me
If I wanna go in traffic, take a whole day from me
Goddamn, God, you took my favorite boy from me
We done f*cked up, been tryna make it home off the streets
I'ma f*ckin' pay your bills, b*tch, hold that for me
I done shot n*ggas off, they went and sold that for me
I had my back against the wall, I ain't fold, I'm a G
If you fold, that ain't cheese, n*ggas froze when it's beef
n*ggas gettin' pus*y then exposing the freak
Exposed to the real, she ain't answered in weeks
Touch down in your town with a bag full of sweets
I'm just lookin' for the fiends, now they lookin' for me
Call my n*gga Emerald, he gon' cook it for me
Call my n*gga, shh, he gon' cook it for free
Jump out of your hood with a bucket on me
sh*t bustin' off the noodles, couldn't fit it in my jeans, n*gga

[Chorus: Babyface Ray]
Rich habits, rich dancing
b*tch badder, been planted
Police kicked my door and I didn't panic
Twenty pints of drop in my kitchen cabinet
Bought it for the low and made it flip backwards
Hide your lil' ho before I kidnap her
Word through the grapevine, n*ggas just rappers
Man, this sh*t ain't new to me, boy, I been havin'

[Verse 2: Wanski]
sh*t ain't new to me, your unc say he used to be
God say He f*ck with me, I send blues with him
These n*ggas rappin' out here cappin', they ain't foolin' me
Got thirty thousand on me, no jewelry
Line slappin', pure cut slappin'
All type of sh*t in the kitchen cabinet
Bro clean a pan like he flippin' patties
I be down the way tryna feed the family
Real n*ggas over here, y'all counterfeit
n*gga play over here, then we droppin' sh*t
We don't do leg shots, b*tch, we top and sh*t
If he do a shot this way, he do not exist
Get that, flip that (Quick)
I collect pros while I sit back (On my ass)
We'll come slide through your kickback (Dumb ass n*gga)
Hundred on the, spend that (Quick)

[Chorus: Babyface Ray]
Rich habits, rich dancing
b*tch badder, been planted
Police kicked my door and I didn't panic
Twenty pints of drop in my kitchen cabinet
Bought it for the low and made it flip backwards
Hide your lil' ho before I kidnap her
Word through the grapevine, n*ggas just rappers
Man, this sh*t ain't new to me, boy, I been havin'

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics provided for educational purposes and personal use only.
Copyright © 2017-2019 Lyrics.lol