Lyrics Made it Out - Jackboy

My dog fresh out the box
He back to totin′ Glocks
He catch a fit, then he back out there tryna shop for opps
Niggas gettin' zipped for all that gangsta shit they was tryna pop
Niggas cannot slip,
′Cause the problem is that they would not make it out
I made it out the trenches even though they had they doubts
I made it out, now my car cost the same price as a house
Racks, I'm thumbing 'em, ayy, ayy
Got a pack, fell in love with my baby
Got ′em on the streets with the throwaway
Choppas slidin′ me, blow his nose away

I don't know how to smoke, Mary Jane
Choppa with the scope, I′m bringing pain
Can't lovе these hoes, thеy fuckin′ for fame
Just be fuckin' these hoes, I don′t even know they name
If you ask for my gang, you wouldn't even know the half
I don't even pillow talk, I don′t even like to brag
Jump fresh out, elevated my swag
My nigga jumped out, went back sellin′ slabs
Them niggas I know, they don't know how to dab
All they know, cook, cut, hit the pot with a jab
My other niggas scam, got rich off a letter
Ballin′ hard for the crib, don't need no bread talk
Drippin′ in designer, I'm a Dior mascot
All this cash money, I can make yo′ bitch bedrock
Dope dick, she's hoppin' on it, ooh, Fentanyl
Leavin′ me for dude? Ho, you better not
Fly lil′ nigga, I can pull up in a jet now
Came up quick, other niggas would've wrecked out
Baptize the money, bank account real blessed now
Thank the Lord I made it, I ain′t gotta be stressed out
Aiming for your head, no need to bring your vest out
Biggie run up, fuck it, go and knock your legs out
Fuck a Hellcat, big dog, bring your lens out
Stick in the hood, I ain't tryna throwin′ hands now

My dog fresh out the box
He back to totin' Glocks
He catch a fit, then he back out there tryna shop for opps
Niggas gettin′ zipped for all that gangsta shit they was tryna pop
Niggas cannot slip,
'Cause the problem is that they would not make it out
I made it out the trenches even though they had they doubts
I made it out, now my car cost the same price as a house
Racks, I'm thumbing ′em, ayy, ayy
Got a pack, fell in love with my baby
Got ′em on the streets with the throwaway
Choppas slidin' me, blow his nose away