Wiz Khalifa – Out in Space (feat. Quavo) Lyrics

Out in Space

Wiz Khalifa (feat. Quavo)

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"Out in Space." - Wiz Khalifa (feat. Quavo)

Thursday, 22 October 2026, 01:31 pm

Album: The Saga of Wiz Khalifa

Track No: 02

Stackin' my paper up, no, I ain't make enough
Won't let these **** up, smoke when I'm wakin' up
No, I ain't fake enough, money, I'm rakin' up
Time, I ain't takin' up, got your girl bakin' up
Your bed, she makin' up, my crib, I'm takin' up
Pillow, her face in it, whole lot of space in it
My car, I'm racin' it, crash and replacin' it
Don't want the basics in, smokin' and facin' it
Came from the bottom, I know where the basement is
Real G's move in silence, my **** are dangerous
Smoke every day and I don't miss a plane
Stack everythin', at the club, make it rain
Got a new broad and she gettin' me paid
Fuck **** hate, guess that come with the game
Got a new car and a bustdown
I was down bad, but I'm up now
And I puff loud when I come 'round
And we just met, she in love now
I'm a straight player, I don't cuff now
I get to the bag, I just run 'round
I'm on KK, I need one pound
When I call a play, it's a touchdown
I'ma beat it down, money, need a pile of it
Blowin' strong and I even fly with it
Team that I'm with, they don't violate it
Got a man, but she couldn't hide in it
Say she can't get enough, late night, I hit her up
Smokin', not drinkin', so I'm 'bout to pick her up
Had me one rolled soon as her **** left
Like when I choke her, don't let her get her breath
Stackin' my paper up, no, I ain't make enough
Won't let these **** up, smoke when I'm wakin' up
No, I ain't fake enough, money, I'm rakin' up
Time, I ain't takin' up, got your girl bakin' up
Your bed, she makin' up, my crib, I'm takin' up
Pillow, her face in it, whole lot of space in it
My car, I'm racin' it, crash and replacin' it
Don't want the basics in, smokin' and facin' it
Came from the bottom, I know where the basement is
Real G's move in silence, my **** are dangerous
Smoke every day and I don't miss a plane
Stack everythin', at the club, make it rain
Got a new broad and she gettin' me paid
Fuck **** hate, guess that come with the game (Quavo, woah)
Connected, my Cookie, that's what Huncho rollin' up
Walk around Takeoff, do not kick his double cup
Offset so crazy, you might end up poured up (Pour 'em up)
Lookin' for your bitch, she out somewhere cuddled up
Circle is tight, look like a huddle-up
Tryna get right, young **** double up (Double up)
I paid for the bitch to go get a new tummy tuck
Gang come in first, we don't run with runner-ups
Walk in the club with my motherfuckin' burner tucked (Burner tucked, grraow)
I am your leader, your favorite achiever
I bought the baguettes, the Pave is cheaper
Quavo Huncho, I'm trappin' with Wiz Khalifa
Stackin' my paper up, no, I ain't make enough
Won't let these **** up, smoke when I'm wakin' up
No, I ain't fake enough, money, I'm rakin' up
Time, I ain't takin' up, got your girl bakin' up
Your bed, she makin' up, my crib, I'm takin' up
Pillow, her face in it, whole lot of space in it
My car, I'm racin' it, crash and replacin' it
Don't want the basics in, smokin' and facin' it
Came from the bottom, I know where the basement is
Real G's move in silence, my **** are dangerous
Smoke every day and I don't miss a plane
Stack everythin', at the club, make it rain
Got a new broad and she gettin' me paid
Fuck **** hate, guess that come with the game
(Jerm on the boards)

Writer(s): Cameron Jibril Thomaz, Jackson Patrick Card, Jeremy Kulousek, MIKE DEAN & Quavious Keyate Marshall.

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