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shy kid - babyface ray lyrics

[intro]
(ddot, you cold as a motherf*cker, on god)

[chorus]
yeah, the game might never change, these b*tches f*ckin’ the money
them drugs drownin’ my youngins, they only talkin’ ’bout murders
i’m pacin’ on through the house, i’m tryna find me some service (service, service, service)
tucked in the back with some curtains
i custom made it myself, i need a fridge wit’ the syrup

[verse 1]
was a shy kid, lately i been blinded by the lights
i’ll buy a b*tch, i just need some comfort for the night
i be high as sh*t, i’m thumbin’ ones, i gotta thumb it twicе
shawty 5’6 and super bad, i’m f*ckin’ her for life
lеt me pause and cover all the bets, before i throw the dice
i finally ran into her ex and figured out i’m not her type
man, i’m five gs in, i’m just here to get a bite
she think she pressin’ beef for check, she don’t know i’m livin’ life
i did a feature for a fifty, ain’t do sh*t but buy a pint
i left my wallet at the crib, but ain’t forget to bring the ice (wow)
enter nashville, sorry, fool, i’m not local
say “play the cards you’re dealt”, so i treat this sh*t like poker (i treat this sh*t like poker)
i’m out in atlanta right now, they treatin’ me like billy ocean
my first time seeing ye was with my uncle carl [?]
i took that lil’ b*tch body, and redid it like an old*school
i’m the [?], but with real n*ggas’ motion
why you look surprised i went to get it like i told you?
took a red ceiling, had to split it like a [?]
[chorus]
yeah, the game might never change, these b*tches f*ckin’ the money
them drugs drownin’ my youngins, they only talkin’ ’bout murders
i’m pacin’ on through the house, i’m tryna find me some service (service, service, service)
tucked in the back with some curtains
i custom made it myself, i need a fridge wit’ the syrup

[verse 2]
was a lover boy, ’till this lil’ b*tch came and broke my heart
i got a hundred bad b*tches fightin’ for me, play your part
i’m in louis v spazzin’, think i need a shopping cart
hopped up out it, took a picture of it, like the way she arch
mr. thuggin’*out*the*corner*suite, i pay the smokin’ fee
it be hard to feel these n*ggas, ’cause i’m not a wannabe
b*tch, you know your man want a feature, stop recordin’ me
i’m in ace and spades, put on a show, these hoes applaudin’ me
money on my mind while countin’ up, sh*t, it be hard to sleep
said i stressed her out, it’s hard to eat, ’cause she can’t talk to me
(ddot, you cold as a motherf*cker, on god)

- babyface ray lyrics

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