Outta Style

I've been trappin out these verses like it's going out of style
Keep a pom pom, full of killa like it's going out of style
This hoe say she wanna suck me like it's going out of style
Living life, I can't get comfy like it's going out of style
So don't play with me, you know that I stay pippy
Long stock pimpin' when I spit, make that hoe break 50
I just get the bag and chuck the duce up like a late hippie
Blowin' F1, I'm off the gas, bitch you can't race with me
Yeah, I grow my own quads
Even when I pray to God, I'm still my own god
Rise up early with the sun cause I'm my own star
All this charisma keep her wetter than a coast guard
So if that ass fat bet I stamp that like a postcard
Yeah, I was woppin cross the country with the coast guard
I used to ride that number one just like a ghost car
Yeah, big Herglotti ridin shotty, that's my co-star
We flood the town had custees sinking like a boat
Ooh, weee, yeah this that killa, you could OD off a toke
Two Gs, if I out this blunt you'll find that in my roach
Two Ps, stuffed in that carry-on, we smokin' out the coach
Big P, come through your stereo, then let them speakers blow
I've been trappin' out these verses like it's goin' out of style
Keep a pom pom, full of killa like it's goin' out of style
This hoe say she wanna suck me like it's going out of style
Living life I can get comfy like it going out of style
So don't play with me, you know that I stay pippy
Long stock pimpin' when I spit, make that hoe break 50
I just get the bag and chuck the duce up like a late hippie
Blowin' F1, I'm off the gas, bitch you can't race with me
Oh, nah, man, y'all can't race with me
I just touch the gas and pew David Blizzy Do what the fuck I wanna do
Y'all can't lamp with me
Stay on my haters' necks
Like a rank hickey
She said, oh dickery dock
She want me to dick'er down
I said give me that tippity top, she said she going down
Make time for sloppity slop whenever I finish making rounds
Word to Biggie, if the head right, I'll be there every night
Every night, every night
Yeah, if the head right, I'll be there every night
Unless I say go that hoe gon' keep that pussy air tight
Nah, I don't play with it, I chop my spinach and feed her bare pipe
I've been trappin out these verses like it's going out of style
Keep a pom pom, full of killa like it's going out of style
This hoe say she wanna suck me like it's going out of style
Living life I can't get comfy like it's going out of style
So don't play with me, you know that I stay pippy
Long stock pimpin' when I spit, make that hoe break 50
I just get the bag and chuck the duce up like a late hippie
Blowin' F1, I'm off the gas, bitch you can't race with me