Out The Door - Maxo Kream, Key!

You can’t smoke around, sit around

Gotta cop and dip

Move a hundred pound outta' bounds

Now I’m getting chips

When I was young I was hella dumb

My trap wasn’t shit

Went from a 1 to a metric ton

Trap house did a flip

I don’t even know this nigga but I still made the sale (Hell!)

Ring my door bell (Hell!), sell a whole bale

It was 5 pound short stupid nigga couldn’t tell (Ayo)

Blowing up my cell (well), should of brought a scale

Fork whipping, mixing grit

Used to burn up all my shit

Cop me a scale and zip

Hol' on now I’m getting it

Finesse the stain, finesse the plug

Finesse that dope, finesse that bitch

Finesse about a hundred thousand grams using counterfeit

I’d be strapped already, trigger happy

Posted with the toolie

Pistol packing, I was packing

I be packing like I’m moving

The ones that like to sit around

Would be the ones that try to do you

So I keep up my spare shotty with a kick like Jin Kazuya

Keep my trapping on the low cause it ain’t everybody’s business

I got 25-to-life inside them cabinets in my kitchen

Hunnid pounds in the trash bag, Maxo do the dishes

Hunnid rounds in the AR mag I can’t leave no witness

Got cameras in the front, got cameras in the back

Got cameras cross the street, in that old Cadillac

Got J’s in my closet, got J’s at the door

Got J’s to wash my car for a lil' crack of coke

Ring my doorbell, come in and take your shoes off

Wax in the oven, take it out and let it cool off

Pack right here you ain’t even gotta sit down

Don’t get cozy, get this shit and move the fuck around

You can’t smoke around, sit around

Gotta cop and dip

Move a hundred pound outt' bounds

Now I’m getting chips

When I was young I was hella dumb

My trap wasn’t shit

Went from a 1 to a metric ton

Trap house did a flip

I don’t even know this nigga but I still made the sale

Ring my door bell, sell a whole bale

It was 5 pound short stupid nigga couldn’t tell

Blowing up my cell, should of brought a scale

36 O’s, that’s a bad hoe

36 German bricks, that’s a stupid bitch

Introduce that stupid bitch to them bad hoes

Pockets on overload, now your pockets swole

Who don’t want pressure?

Who ain’t got pressure?

Boy we fucking shine, pressure lake it dies

Where your pressure point?

I bet I can find it

Where your pressure point?

I bet I can find it

I got a fifty round drum in a Rondo

And I’m beating down your block, you’re like Congo

Where the base go?

Where the base go?

Talking to the internet like where the base go?

Trap house swole, trap house closed

I keep my young’in''s on the block even when it’s cold

Now they coming back hot, I’m like «Damn whoa!»

What y’all gone and told?

You can’t smoke around, sit around

Gotta cop and dip

Move a hundred pound outta bounds

Now I’m getting chips

When I was young I was hella dumb

My trap wasn’t shit

Went from a 1 to a metric ton

Trap house did a flip

I don’t even know this nigga but I still made the sale

Ring my door bell, sell a whole bale

It was 5 pound short stupid nigga couldn’t tell

Blowing up my cell, should of brought a scale