Bluffin

[Intro]
(Kutta, cut that shit up, man)

[Verse 1: Lil Baby]
Switch the weather when I want, we at the other, other spot
Me and bro ain’t swappin’ out our jewels, this another watch
I get all types of bags in, I’m a different hot
Shroom sex on the private jet, this a different high
I’m with the clappers
Brodie changed his life but he an ex-kidnapper
Ain’t tryna go there with you, weird-ass actors
Or rappers or whatever you call yourself
I got five cellphones, tell them niggas to call my bluff
That lit shit I don’t post, I can’t show thеm folks all of this stuff
Tighten up the business, I donе killed and been ballin’ it up
Older niggas postin’ motivation, they holdin’ they nuts
Keep the windows clear, so them pussy niggas can see the guts
Cutlass, she thinkin’ I’m stubborn
But, baby, I’m the catch, I catch up with you when I can
Need a camera crew, everything we do, it should be on film
We came through a hundred deep, I seen you with your boyfriend
Horse playin’, I was in a ‘Rari, I was with a barbie, I had on Marni
I call her Lori, my new-new, yeah-yeah, my boo
Shit I rap ’bout be all facts, I’m livin’ out my truth
He think he this ’cause he bought that, bruh, I copped bruh one too
We havin’ motions for real, plural, everybody gettin’ money
I took off on niggas, real bad, everybody act funny
Life a hard pill to swallow, nigga, everybody gotta stomach
I tried to show niggas the right way, so everybody leave the wrong way
You might also like
Attention
Doja Cat
​back to the moon
Gunna
​fukumean
Gunna
[Verse 2: Gucci Mane]
I tried to lead by example, helped everybody get money
I quit lean and stopped gamblin’, I’m an ex-codeine junkie (Lean)
Stayed in motels with my family and did pushups with my bunky
Used to work up off my brother ‘nem, but I ain’t never been no flunky (No)
Some nigga tried me but couldn’t call me, just a young nigga, they jumped me
One nigga still think he got one up on me, but his day still comin’ (Wow)
I don’t make threats, no, I promise, I just drop bands like commas
Don’t even ask me ’bout dead folks, ’cause I ain’t got no comment (Yeah)
I want my M’s up to one, two, three, four, five one-hundred (Go)
I ain’t arguin’ on no internet, I’m not Wack100 (No)
Miami, no shirt just to show off the tats on my stomach (Man)
Niggas old and broke, and out of shape, it sick, make me vomit
It’s been eighteen years later and my stock still ain’t plummet
Had to bet on myself, and made somethin’ from nothin’ (Yeah)
Niggas sayin’ they did this and that, for me, y’all ain’t do nothin’
Nigga gon’ throw they hand in and stop all that bluffin’ (It’s Gucci)