Artist: Lil Baby Album: Street Gossip (Mixtape) Song: Crush a Lot Typed by: AZ Lyrics (Cook that shit up, Quay) I can't fuck with shawty, no she didn't tell Trim shit she look like Draya Michele I been goin' crazy givin' them hell She ain't tryin' to go with me I'ma pay her I crush a lot, baby girl I'ma player Connect the dots then I plug up the scale If we get caught they gon' give me the chair Fuck the law, make them earn what they pay 'em Ain't no back and forth with no bitches intended Rolls Royce truck, bitch it ain't rented And they braggin' about bitches I'm probably hit ‘em I've flooded my wrist, let the bros split a million At this point I'm heartless, I ain't got no feelings But every building in the hood for my children Like a Drake song, got your vibe feelin’ groovy With no phone we can make us a movie I ain't in my bag, I still got my feet out If we want to smoke with y'all, you can be out Free the bros, buy my shit out the kiosk I'm at the VIE with a spot just to creep out Lil' shawty suck it like she just took her teeth out 5% tint on the whip you can't see out of it Ready to 'Set It Off', Queen Latifah These niggas talk like bitches, see what they be ‘bout I can't fuck with shawty, no she didn't tell Trim shit she look like Draya Michele I been goin' crazy givin' them hell She ain't tryin' to go with me I'ma pay her I crush a lot, baby girl I'ma player Connect the dots then I plug up the scale If we get caught they gon' give me the chair Fuck the law, make them earn what they pay 'em Ain't no complainin', the money coming in Put it all up, do it all again First you get a mil', then it's times ten Youngest out the crew, AMG Benz Stand up like a man, take it on the chin They got consequences in this life of sin Laugh about it, go in Gucci, spend a ten When you come home, we gon' all win Goin' in the club and make it thunderstorm This shit reckless, he gon' knock you off with his Rollie on Drive the Rolls Royce like a hotbox, really came from nothin' Only ride with my security because I can't be armed Can't get caught with another gun They gon' know me when I'm gone Hear my pain inside my songs It's like a switch, I cut it off Pills kick in, gettin' in my zone Do my job and sing along I'm never talkin' on them phones Feds gon' try to do us wrong They ain't got my nigga long Lately I just been alone My cup, my strap, this microphone Nobody know what's goin' on I'm glad I made it off the road Granddaddy showed me life is a gamble Ever since I've been rolling dice They gon' suck it up like a bowl of rice I'ma give it to them niggas every time I can't fuck with shawty, no she didn't tell Trim shit she look like Draya Michele I been goin' crazy givin' them hell She ain't tryin' to go with me I'ma pay her I crush a lot, baby girl I'ma player Connect the dots then I plug up the scale If we get caught they gon' give me the chair Fuck the law, make them earn what they pay 'em