Lil Baby & Gunna – Belly Lyrics

Lil Baby & Gunna – Belly Lyrics
Belly
Lil Baby & Gunna
    Lyrics copied!
    Belly Album Art
    "Belly." - Lil Baby & Gunna

    Album: Drip Harder
    Track No: 03

    (Run that back, Turbo)
    You **** bogus, I see the imposers
    I used to sell yola, trap on Motorolla
    Spittin' these vocals, labels think I wrote it
    Slippery wet paints, the coupes are candy-coated
    Just left the bank, I need a bag to hold this
    The streets like a farm 'cause all we ride is horses
    Let my face tell it, we done made a fortune
    I'm ridin' with my dog and he ain't gotta question
    I got a bitch like Keisha off of Belly
    Police got dogs and they can't even smell me
    Keep me a cup, I got a lean belly
    20's on me, I call 'em green relish
    Balmain my jeans, if not, they Embellish
    Too many vibes, they think I'm R. Kelly
    P-H in the sky, we got 'em already
    PJ in the sky and I don't wanna land it
    Creepin' at night, that VLONE bandit
    I prayed to the sky and none of this was handed
    Worked all my life and now I understand it
    Crawled up like a mouse, but I could never tell it
    I got the sweetest sauce like jelly
    Try disrespect me, you all gettin' beheaded
    I got the drip, they call me Dripavelli
    I held him down, that **** was my celly
    Fuck you fuck ****, never made me heartless
    Thank God, came and got me
    I used to shop at Target
    They cut out the coupe before we hit the market
    We don't pack our bags 'cause we gon' shop, regardless
    Backend, I'm back in, paid up for the party
    I done came a long way from openin' up for Carti
    Shades and my bracelets Cartier Carti
    Police's cases, all that we avoidin'
    The lean in my cup gettin' more and more muddy
    I show them my love, I never been a bully
    Got every color VLONE hoody
    Just jumped in the game and still I ain't no rookie
    I got the sauce, cream and puddin'
    I came with the drip, got everybody lookin'
    Cherish your blessings, easily could be tooken
    Send a front in, it's easy to get a book in
    You **** bogus, I see the imposers
    I used to sell yola, trap on Motorolla
    Spittin' these vocals, labels think I wrote it
    Slippery wet paints, the coupes are candy-coated
    Just left the bank, I need a bag to hold this
    The streets like a farm 'cause all we ride is horses
    Let my face tell it, we done made a fortune
    I'm ridin' with my dog and he ain't gotta question
    Yeah, cash all my backends, I bought me a Patek
    Addicted to cabbage, the money relax me
    My mom and them happy, I bought 'em a mansion
    I still rock the fitted, but I don't be cappin' (Skrrt!)
    These camouflage denim like I just went campin'
    They still can't believe that I made it, they happy
    I been gettin' money before I was rappin'
    I'm ridin' in the Wraith like I play with the athletes
    No pleadin', arraignment, ain't takin' no charges
    My young ****'s solid, I know that he got me
    He keep his mouth closed, I'ma buy him a foreign
    Penthouse, hotel suite whenever we're tourin'
    How foreign my tint is, I still rock the Jordan
    Packin' out shows, love my fans, they important
    And I'm still in the trap, in the hood like a motor
    Spend thousands on fragrance, she fuckin' my odor
    I just started rappin', I made me some millions
    Man, shout out Atlanta, I'm runnin' my city
    These bracelets came healthy, they cost me a 50
    I leveled it up, I've been handlin' business
    Gettin' 20 a night, every day, different city
    I just keep puttin' this syrup in my kidneys
    This the big one, boy, this not the Jubilee (Jubilee)
    I got Gunna with me, rockin' VLONE, Supreme
    (Yeah, yeah)
    You **** bogus, I see the imposers
    I used to sell yola, trap on Motorolla
    Spittin' these vocals, labels think I wrote it
    Slippery wet paints, the coupes are candy-coated
    Just left the bank, I need a bag to hold this
    The streets like a farm 'cause all we ride is horses
    Let my face tell it, we done made a fortune
    I'm ridin' with my dog and he ain't gotta question (Uh)

    Writer(s): Dominique' Jones, Sergio Kitchens & Chandler Durham.

    All lyrical content displayed on this website is the intellectual property of its respective copyright holders. No ownership is implied, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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