Lil Baby – Heatin Up Lyrics

Lil Baby – Heatin Up Lyrics

Cook that s— up, Quay
4PF, look like we hit this, how we sell bricks
We don’t sell s—, we just make hits, yeah
Turn up

Keepin’ my composure, never sober
Never chokin’, always smokin dope
F— them if they gettin’ over
Got a Moncler coat, my [?] cost [?]
I ain’t changed, I stayed the same, it maintain
It’s safe to say the kid gettin’ older
Forever Gang, I’m never switchin over
Made a lane and n—– can’t get over
I can’t measure rappers, they be bogus
Rarely get a pack and looking over
Big drippers stand up in the ocean
Everybody trappin, we get loads in
He ain’t 4PF if he ain’t got motion
Made a half a ticket of promotion
Shoutout Swishers Sweet, they keep me rollin’
But if we catch the opp, we gotta smoke ’em
Ridin’ ’round with Dracs’, like we OVO
I got some racks and I want some more
Still got them passin’ the hood, call it give-and-go
Keep a n—- main b—- in the figure-four
Let me f— when I want, I just come and go
Man, these racks gettin’ too big for these skinny clothes
I might put me an M in some big girbaud
That lil’ bro, he hid the stick and start gettin’ low
I spent five hundred racks on a Lambo’
And didn’t even know how to make that m———– go
On my birthday, I just wanna lift the door
Barely flex, but don’t play with me, period
Shooters fallin’ behind in the years
[?] got fit like a tourist
I’m the one from the bottom, ‘most sold out my partner
All them pound, used to drive in a buick

Hah, hah, hah
Oh, he ain’t up
I f— with Slimes and I’m gonna bust
He can’t put on the drip, he ain’t one of us
How you ride in the Benz and a Tonka Truck?
How you got everybody lit, pipin’ up?
Oh, she bad with no swag, I can pipe her up
Made my last one my last one, ain’t no wifin’ her
Count the money up fast like I’m typin’ some
I’m in tight, I get active and never run

Keep the Rugers, my n—– ain’t scared of none
And ain’t no [?] you can get it done
Hold it light baby, I keep me a hundred buck
Gettin’ hit after hit, call me Barry Bonds
But it’s Christmas, I bought everybody guns
Costin’ choppers and FN’s for everyone
Take the roof off the car, let her feel the sun
I let my bro go see [?] thousand month
Got this b—- out there callin’, she s—–’ and swallowin’
I stick it she feel it in her guts
We don’t run from our problems, we stackin’ up gwualla
[?] tryna make a buck
We don’ drip, lil’ n—-, best watch your step
This top shelf, got forty designer belts
4PF look like the new BMF
Think I’m deaf, got songs in my right and left
How you crank up that time, no key in there
Just pull up, spin they block and get out of there
We’re gonna have a hard time findin’ what to wear
Treat these hoes like a tire, I keep a spare
Once is strapped, ’cause we’re war ready
Check the trust account, wantin’ more fetty
Sky dwellin’, [?] and a presi’
Hundred fifty applyin’ Richard Millie
I’ma [?] test the diamond
Lil’ cuzzo spit that flame until it empty
I am not a killer, but don’t test me
Spendin’ rate, a thousand to a fifty

Hah, hah, hah
Oh, he ain’t up
I f— with Slimes and I’m gonna bust
He can’t put on the drip, he ain’t one of us
How you ride in the Benz and a Tonka Truck?
How you got everybody lit, pipin’ up?
Oh, she bad with no swag, I can pipe her up
Made my last one my last one, ain’t no wifin’ her
Count the money up fast like I’m typin’ some
I’m in tight, I get active and never run