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fresh out the county - daboii lyrics

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[intro]
yeah, yeah, yeah, bet them baby do is get it done, n*gga (quake)
yeah, mhm, yeah, fresh out the—, yeah, yeah, yeah (li*li*li*link up)
he tried that, ayy, then i dip the—, yeah
ah, ah, oh yeah
yeah, on the gang, n*gga, you know where we hang, n*gga
you know what i bang, n*gga, b*tch
ah, he on the gang, n*gga
yeah, yeah, you know what i claim, n*gga
yeah, yeah, you know what i bang, n*gga
you know where we hang, n*gga, sob gang, n*gga

[chorus]
fresh out the county, copped the rollie, then i dipped the benz
(ah, yeah, then i—, yeah)
i rap now, they forgot that i was with the sh*t (but they forgot)
i catch my bro opp out in traffic, gettin’ pistol whipped (here’s what you forgot)
ain’t even pull up to the hood, been chillin’ with my son (chillin’ with [cane?])
warrant on me if i knew i’d have be on the run (b*tch, i’m gone)
ain’t popped no pills, ain’t sipped no drank, and ain’t hit no blunts (i ain’t never)
ain’t gotta k!ll ’em, bet them baby do is get it done (i bet they doin’)

[verse]
ain’t gotta do it, bet them baby do is handle it (i bet they doin’)
don’t hit the book talkin’ ’bout no beef, you n*ggas ran from that (you n*ggas nash)
they put your boy up in that spitter, check the aftermath (check the aftermath)
slid up on him with that fire, he got his candle waxed (boom, boom)
when i heard [brian?] hit my b*tch, i had to keep it p (hah, on the gang)
when he had heard his b*tch got f*cked, he tried to beef with me (hah, on the gang)
i ain’t had no p*ssy in a year, i had to beat my meat (haha)
rollers on me interrogatin’, i ain’t seen a thing (nah, i ain’t seen)
ain’t even been out for a month and i’ve been catchin’ flights (i’ve been gone)
my fans keep tellin’ me, “record,” i’m finna bless the mic (i got you)
my son want everything he sees, and i’m like, “sh*t, alright” (haha)
he throw my name up in that song, he gon’ be dead tonight (boom, boom)
if we don’t catch him by tonight, he gon’ be gone tomorrow (gon’ be gone)
went to jail, and they complained, i took it up with karma (hah, on the gang)
brodie said he love me more, but i still keep my guard up (hah, on the gang)
eight hundred for some f*ckin’ pants, b*tch, i don’t shop in zara (ain’t never)
i heard them n*ggas try backdoor me, had to laugh it off (haha)
’cause it’s my fault for trustin’ n*ggas, i ain’t mad at y’all (haha)
i’m the type to say it’s good, it’s really bad for dog (that’s really bad for dog)
when i say, “let’s go and hoop,” b*tch, this ain’t basketball
keep the money comin’ in, and kick the b*tches out (and kick them b*tches out)
said he got the plug on what? we need them b*tches now (right now)
we maskin’ up about that beef, b*tch, we in and out (b*tch, we gone)
mama bought me [?] for school, i’m wearin’ rickies now
i can’t pop no percocets, them b*tches too addictive (too addictive)
don’t f*ck with hoes that’s tryna f*ck, i f*ck with boostin’ b*tches (huh, on the gang)
they keep on tellin’ me i’m winnin’, but i’m losin’ n*ggas (yeah, on the gang)
lil’ bro ain’t tryna shoot no dice, that boy be shootin’ n*ggas (ah, ah, ah, on the gang)
lil’ bro ain’t tryna shoot no dice, he tryna catch a hat (huh, on the gang)
chiropractic in that field, bet he stretch his ass (boom, boom)
my po put my ass in jail, sh*t, i was h*lla mad (hah, i was hot)
b*tch, we ain’t runnin’ from no beef, b*tch, run and tell ’em that (b*tch, we ain’t run)
they sent that warrant for my arrest, and took that bail from me (hah)
from angel city, but i got n*ggas causin’ h*ll for me (huh, on the gang)
you won’t see me peezy up, i’m in the jail thuggin’ (jails thuggin’)
and i can’t slime with none you n*ggas, you’ll tell on me (huh, you n*ggas snitchin’)
n*gga, everybody switchin’, everybody fake (everybody fakin’)
i ain’t hear from a lot of n*ggas when i caught that case (haha, on the gang)
talkin’ ’bout you tryna do your time, you could have caught that face (huh, sucker)
he gave his all to that lil’ b*tch, and then his ass got played (nah)
my po been up on my ass, i can’t even leave the city (f*ck ’em)
my own brother snaked my brother, this sh*t gettin’ tricky (where the snakes?)
my lil’ bro tryna catch a body, but i don’t see it in him (but i don’t see it)
pull up on it with that woah, this don’t be a vicky, b*tch (this don’t be a vicky)
[chorus]
fresh out the county, copped the rollie, then i dipped the benz
(ah, yeah, then i—, yeah)
i rap now, they forgot that i was with the sh*t (but they forgot)
i catch my bro opp out in traffic, gettin’ pistol whipped (here’s what you forgot)
ain’t even pull up to the hood, been chillin’ with my son (chillin’ with [cane?])
warrant on me if i knew i’d have be on the run (b*tch, i’m gone)
ain’t popped no pills, ain’t sipped no drank, and ain’t hit no blunts (i ain’t never)
ain’t gotta k!ll ’em, bet them baby do is get it done (i bet they doin’)

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