Correction Lyrics Seeing Red by Doe Boy

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Lyrics

In and out of sh*t
Hoppin' in and out
Uh

Hoppin' in and out of sh*t, back the foreigns down back to back
Caddy truck, cameras everywhere, b*t*h, I never lack
Hundred hundreds in my bankroll
Three days, same clothes
This new money, trust me, if it's not, I don't change clothes
Hoppin' in and out of sh*t, back the foreigns down back to back
Caddy truck, cameras everywhere, b*t*h, I never lack
Hundred hundreds in my bankroll
Three days, same clothes
This new money, trust me, if it's not, I don't change clothes

Cold case, shoot him in his sh*t, uh, case closed
Bust down, stones everywhеre, b*t*h, chain froze
Big body huggin' both lanes, it's comin' both ways
Morе grindin', I been playin' less and now I'm more paid

Uh-huh
They, they like, "Yak, I hope you grindin'," I'm like, "Uh-huh"
B*t*h, I make my shooters spin your block 'til the law come
Then I make 'em spin again soon as the law gone
Wave that TEC and watch 'em scatter just like roaches, they gon' all run
Uh-huh
They, they like, "Yak, I hope you grindin'," I'm like, "Uh-huh"
B*t*h, I make my shooters spin your block 'til the law come
Then I make 'em spin again soon as the law gone
Wave that TEC and watch 'em scatter just like roaches—
Ayy, b*t*h, I been that n***a, uh, every since I left the porch
Mom told me up my grade, b*t*h, I was tryna up the torch
I wasn't runnin' 'round no hall, I was tryna up the score
She think I'm thinkin' with my d**k, I wasn't worryin' 'bout no ho (Doe Beezy, let's go)

Uh, come through spinnin' back to back (Buh, buh, buh)
Shoot this b*t*h like Kobe, then I pa** the blick to Baby Shaq (Buh, buh, buh, buh)
Countin' up these stacks, f**k around and have the rack attack (Racks, racks, racks, rack)
We let choppers clap, b*t*h, I let these f**kin' rappers rap (You think I'm playin'?)
Grab the stick from Yak, uh, finna hit the opp block (Grrah)
She outside, you get your mother shot, you sweet, b***erscotch (Grrah)
Hundreds in this mop and I got a hundred in my chop (Let's go)
I put thirty on my Glock and I put thirty on your top, ho (Oh, really?)
Boss man Beezy, I live like I'm El Chapo (Doe Beezy)
Tryna put the play down, I don't trust her, I'll pop a ho (Buh, buh, buh, buh)
Beezy on your a**, let your partners know (Buh, buh, buh, buh)
You jump in this beef, you dead, Geronimo, let choppers go, uh (Oh, really?)

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