Lil Baby – Crush A Lot Lyrics

Crush A Lot

Lil Baby

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"Crush A Lot." - Lil Baby

Sunday, 25 October 2026, 07:30 am

Album: Street Gossip

Track No: 03

(Cook that shit up, Quay)
I can't fuck with shawty, know she'll tell
Slim shit, 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 bitch, this ain't tennis
Rolls Royce truck, bitch, it ain't rented
And they braggin' about bitches, I 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
Buy 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 wanted smoke with y'all, you couldn't be out
Free the bros, buy my shit off the kiosk
I'm at the vibe with the spot, this the creep house
Lil shawty suck it like she just took her teeth out
Five percent tint on the whip, you can't see out
Ready to 'Set It Off', Queen Latifah
These **** talk like bitches, see what they be 'bout
I can't fuck with shawty, know she'll tell
Slim shit, 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 complain', the money comin' 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
Go in any 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'
I 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
They hear my pain inside my songs
It's like a switch, I cut it on
Pills kick in, gettin' in my zone
Do my job ain't seen no wrong
I'm never talkin' on them phones
Feds gon' try to do us wrong
They ain't got my **** long
Lately, I just been alone
My cup, my strap, this microphone
Nobody know what's going on
Just 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 **** every time
I can't fuck with shawty, know she'll tell
Slim shit, 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

Writer(s): Dominique' Jones & Chris Rosser.

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