Baby Lyrics - Quality Control

Wheezy outta here 

Yeah, rest in peace to Bankroll, show 'em how to do it 

Baby goin' crazy, he been gettin' straight to it 

I done caught so many flights I end up fuckin' all the stewardesses 

Catch me in Atlanta, no security with my jewelry 

Found all them rings, my baby mama talkin' suin' me 

Nother bitch tellin' lies on the pussy like she screwin' me 

Catch him down bad, that's his ass, nigga, you or me 

SL diamonds on the chain, he ain't foolin' me 

We was skippin' school on the train, duckin' truancy 

My main partner turned into a rat, he talkin' 'bout Rod and me 

I pray the judge give that boy a bond so I can pop him 

We was in the hood, sellin' bags, shroom, trap exotic 

Fucked around and tried to go and lease a helicopter 

Baby really a problem, somebody gotta stop him 

And the haters watchin' too hard, I think they got binoculars 

Every nigga with me on go, it ain't no stoppin' us 

Niggas actin' like they got the bag, I'm tryna stop it up 

Do this for the bros down the road, gotta lock it up 

All you gotta do is say it's smoke, then we're poppin' up 

Baby got the streets on hold, he ain't drop yet 

I've been goin' hard, it's gon' be hard for you to top that 

I make it look easy, but this shit really a process 

I'm really a millionaire, still in the projects 

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Baby puttin' on for the city 

Baby, he the realest 

Baby prolly got a couple million 

Baby hang with four or five killers 

Baby got children 

Baby prolly still drug dealin 

Baby ain't a trapper, he a rapper 

Baby makin' classics 

Baby in the hood gettin' active 

Baby keep it real with his people 

Baby like a preacher 

Baby prolly still sell reefer 

Photos 

Huh? 

Baby prolly still got them 'bows 

I tell my bitch I'm faithful, but I still got the hoes 

Baby gettin' jiggy 

On stage with the Glizzy 

Baby CEO, he shake the game like he Diddy 

You would think it's Mardi Gras, I got these bitches showin' titties 

And I ain't throwin' beads 

I pull them bitches' weaves 

I'm stallin' bitches out, if I'm a dog, then she a flea 

And when I fuck her doggy style the only time I'm on my knee 

I barely wanna hit her, got her beggin' " Baby, please" 

I tell a bitch to shut up 

You 'bout to fuck my nut up 

The label's CEO keep beggin' me to keep the gun up 

They know, you play with Baby, Baby beat him, cut up 

Private plane, wifi, on the FaceTime with Johnny 

I told him ice my wrist up 

I like to hold my fist up 

How that boy Da Baby in the air not gettin' his dick sucked? 

Why he keep the fire and throw them fours in every picture? 

'Cause nigga 

Baby puttin' on for the city 

Baby, he the realest 

Baby prolly got a couple million 

Baby hang with four or five killers 

Baby got children 

Baby prolly still drug dealin 

Baby ain't a trapper, he a rapper 

Baby makin' classics 

Baby in the hood gettin' active 

Baby keep it real with his people 

Baby like a preacher 

Baby prolly still sell reefer