BABE RUTH Lyrics

Ayy.. ayy.

Aye, no friends, I'm countin' these Benjamin's alone in the coupe

She get chills, when my music come on in the whip, cuz my shit the truth

Til I got mil's, & my fam out the trenches, I lace up my boots

A robber get killed, start swingin' the stick around like Babe Ruth

This shit get real, gotta flip that shit, gotta turn a 1 to 2

Think I'ma die out on some Flyy shit, that's what I was born to do

My scars, they healed, I be lyin' if I said it ain't hurt, I'ma tell you the truth

Aye, lil' bald-headed bitch, she pretty like she Betty Boop

Smooth talker, the way I slick talk a bitch, think I'm pimpin' and shit

New Wock, I'm poppin' the seal, I'm mixin' it purple or pink

She wanna come with the guys, cuz she know that we them niggas

If I stood on my money right now, I'd be somewhere near the ceilin

Watch the way you sip my cup, lil baby, you know it's exotic

He FaceTime shorty, flexin' his money, bein' obnoxious

Boy, you need to stop it, chop make you dance like Spotemgotem

She wanna take a photoshoot with me inside my closet

She know I'm Flyy, lil' baby, you know that I'm a pilot

Chop a do the math, these niggas do not want no problems

Louis Vuitton belt buckle, Balenciaga wallet

Sometimes I feel like 50, I'ma get rich or die tryin

Sometimes I feel like 50, but these niggas the ones get shot

Glrr, Grah, She ask why it make that sound

Bitch, this ain't no trap, this is a gate, move in and out

Baby, hit my line like 'Flyy, when you comin' back around?'

Aye, no friends, I'm countin' these Benjamin's alone in the coupe

She get chills, when my music come on in the whip, cuz my shit the truth

Til I got mil's, & my fam out the trenches, I lace up my boots

A robber get killed, start swingin' the stick around like Babe Ruth

Swingin' the stick around like Babe Ruth