Commercial - Lil Baby, Lil Uzi Vert

Tay Keith, this too hard

Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up

I paid some extra before we even come out

And don’t even wear it to show I ain’t playin'

I hit the bitch and I gave her some racks

And I pull up my pants, she know I ain’t stayin'

Go run the store, run and get rubber bands

I done got rich, I done put on my mans

Choppas in traffic, that’s just how I’m livin'

They say that I’m trippin', they wouldn’t understand

She take a trip, she come back with a tan

I take a trip, I come back with them bands

When I was dealin', it really was killin' them

Had them come pinch, tryna see what I’m payin'

She throw a hoodie on soon as we land

She don’t like pics, I got too many fans

I’m runnin' shit, I can do what I want

And it’s really a limit, you do what you can

I found the booth and I put that shit up

'Fore I run out of cash, they’re gonna run out of land

I fell in love with this bitch 'cause her head was amazing

I swear I don’t even know her name

I’m 'bout to takeoff, I gave 'em a chance

They gave me ten M&M's on advance

Thought I’d be trappin' forever, but God came and blessed me

I guess He was part of the plan

How he on fire, but he cool as a fan?

Can’t get at you, we gon' get at your man

They can relate to me 'cause I be poppin'

Put in they face, let them see what I’m sayin'

I’m rockin' shows like I play with a band

Free all the bros, know I would if I can

If I don’t mean it, I swear I ain’t sayin' it

'Fore I was 21, swear I was savage, smash

Hold up, who got Backwood?

I need roll up

Dior store can’t keep up with me

I’m spendin' thousand like money is nothin' to me

I’m never comin' back, them people under me

Not the fans, yeah, the haters

Lotta bands on the table

They say I went commercial, I ain’t know it

They want me catch a murder, I ain’t goin' back

Play myself on my opposition, who doin' that?

We got FN with extensions, we throwin' that

Her ass got my full attention, she throwin' that

Niggas talkin' way too much, I ain’t goin' back

And forth with niggas, 'cause these niggas be holding racks

On the real, yeah, we know you don’t own them racks

Four pockets full, push 'em down, they start pokin' back

I turn 8 million right until I’m a quarterback

Spend a million like I’m tryna bring Kobe back, 24 (Woo)

I’m ready, I’m ready, I use the crockpot like it’s Betty

They say the drop hot, and it’s ready

Might stretch it out but it ain’t Fetti (Yes)

Say my dawg doin' time, but I know he ain’t gonna snitch

'Cause it’s still some shit he didn’t tell me

My dogs at the celly, he told me the whole story over the celly (Brr, hello?)

Went up in my price in my pocket like Kelly

Fucked her in the telly', no I can’t not say who, no telly

My head gettin' heavy

Ayy, you know I still got Balmains on my ass

No, I can’t do no Amiris

Said I’m takin' trips, long flights they scary

She said her birthday in March, okay, cool

So, that means you an Aries

I told her «Gotta go,"she said «You serious?»

Diamonds cold, it’s December, my vibe Sagittarius

Hold up, who got Backwood?

I need roll up

Dior store can’t keep up with me

I’m spendin' thousand like money is nothin' to me

I’m never comin' back, them people under me

Not the fans, yeah, the haters

Lotta bands on the table

They say I went commercial, I ain’t know it

They want me catch a murder, I ain’t goin' back

Play myself on my opposition, who doin' that?

I can switch up and come back another way

Yeah, the vibe ain’t right, come back another day

Biggest dripper, I start up a tidal wave

Remix weed we put it in a microwave

Batch for twenty-three, like I know Michael J

He can say what he want, but he gotta pay

Used to hide all the guns where my momma estate

Sell my drugs 'round the corner

I pay all these bills, I’m a grown up

My cars all look different, I own 'em

I ain’t with no leasin', my bitch telling me I need credit

It’s loud and clear if I said it

I come from the gutter, I spend my a hundred on Chevys

You can take me out the hood

But you can’t take the hood out of me

Know the hood proud of me

I Givenchy my tee, went and upgrade my teeth

I dropped out of school, but that paper on me

Hold up, who got Backwood?

I need roll up

Dior store can’t keep up with me

I’m spendin' thousand like money is nothin' to me

I’m never comin' back, them people under me

Not the fans, yeah, the haters

Lotta bands on the table

They say I went commercial, I ain’t know it

They want me catch a murder, I ain’t goin' back

Play myself on my opposition, who doin' that?