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OUTERSPACE
by
Don Toliver
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Lyrics
This the 7-1-3 motherf**kin' Don T Ayy, this your boy, Cardo, man Me and Keem just touched down in H-Town Know what I'm talkin' 'bout? Ayy, man, come pick us up in one of those SLABS, you know what I'm sayin'? One of them sh*ts with the elbows hangin' out Ayy, tap in I say, "What's up, man? It's Booman, I'm back again" Let your friends know, can you braid my hair like Iverson's? I'm just playin', woah, I got movie hoes, top actresses on the channel Most of my hoes know how to play the piano B*t*h, I'm movin' stealth, just ask yourself, have you seen me? "He got two hoes, oh, sh*t, he's Baby Keemy" You went too long, and you know it's time to see me In and out the state, yeah, this sh*t up for take, yeah You mistreat that ho, make her feel out of place, yeah That's a big mistake, I cannot relate, huh Me and my girl movin' at a pace, hmm If that sh*t movin' too fast, I hit the brakes I said, "What's up, ho? It's boolin', I'm back again" Tell your friend though, I can see the money through the lens I'm just sayin', though, know my baby really top ten Pushin' that powder Benz off of that cash that I thought I spent (Uh-huh) '82 Rolls (Yeah-yeah), twenty-one wins (Yeah-yeah) I'ma let you go in peace, but I see it how I see Baby, keep on callin', huh, controllin' me But I, I can never lie, only way to try I cannot decide, middle of July Oh, oh-oh Oh-yeah, yeah-yeah Ooh-ooh Ooh Ten toes down, and I'm schemin' and sh*t Eviction notice, lil' bih, get off my p*n*s and sh*t, yeah I'm the type to talk about my demons and sh*t Tennis chains on, feelin' like Serena and sh*t I got stripes, I got rank I'ma run down on an opp, I call it a flank (Flank) Bet I cop that choppa, n***a, know I'm shootin' off, these ain't blanks (Gah, gah, gah) I've been movin' in silence (Yeah), I'm known to keep it private I condone the violence (Yeah), if you play with me, I'm slidin' Money like that, I'll spend it for ya (Money like that, I'll spend it for ya) When I want you back, but I can't employ ya (Want you back, yeah) Gotta keep that strap like a militant soldier (Gotta keep that strap, militant) And you smokin' that dope, right there, I sold ya I thought I told ya (Ooh, ooh) I gotta run through the fire, I need a ho like Mariah I wanna swerve with the tire, I make the family retire I gotta see the hope, be the way I gotta free the folks where I lay I gotta show the light to the weak Dodgin' the fake woke in L.A.
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