Текст песни Outy When I Drive/Blamed (Chris Brown) с переводом

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Everything foreign, nigga

Ooh

Bougie, shit tell 'em back back (Back back)

Runnin' around with the rat pack (Huh)

That ass too fat, tell her back back (What)

Ain’t doing no talkin, the choppa got kick back (Blat)

Ooh, ooh

She won’t be my boo (My boo)

I was broke, now I got bitches in my coupe (Huh)

Me and Breezy, 50 hoes, by the group (By the group)

That’s yo' bitch, she told a lie, ain’t told the truth, ooh (Ain't told the

truth)

I get her gone

Fuck her once, she won’t pick up the phone (What?)

I send her home (Home)

Give me the dome, give me the dome

High-y, high-y, high

I’ma fly, I’ma flatline

Outy when I drive

Bring me up, bitch, on both sides

Broke niggas always minus, wearin' designer

See me, I beat it out the line and it’ll fuck ya spine up

High-y, high-y, high

Yeah, baby, flatline

Outy when I drive, flatline

High-y, high-y, high

Yeah, baby, flatline

Outy when I drive

Bitch, on both sides

When I do the dash, bitch, I swear that they mouth wide

Hunnids, countin' cash in a pair of them off-whites

You need to bring your ass over here

If your nigga wanna fight, bitch, come outside

I’m off this Hennessy, too many shots

Don’t give a fuck

Ain’t no excuses for bein' belligerent, just give me the bottle

Stop thinkin' about it, 'til I’m on the floor

Switchin' lanes, caught in the paint, off the backboard

Ain’t no way I’ma change, pussy got me goin'

High-y, high-y, high

I’ma fly, I’ma flatline

Outy when I drive

Bring me up, bitch, on both sides

Broke niggas always minus, wearin' designer

See me, I beat it out the line and it’ll fuck ya spine up

High-y, high-y, high

Yeah, baby, flatline

Outy when I drive, flatline

High-y, high-y, high

Yeah, baby, flatline

Outy when I drive

Bitch, on both sides

I say vroom, vroom

808s gon' make your body shake

Look bitch boom, boom

And when I get you

I’ll knock that pussy to the moon, moon

If he trippin', grab that Smith

And I’ma knock his brain loose

Do what you do

These hatin' niggas got it bad

Nigga talkin' tough into my lil' condo, and shot his ass

And if you mention me, then you gon' end up in a body bag

Lil' mama, I ain’t tryna fuck you, you ain’t got a lot of ass

I need a lot of that, yeah-yeah

High-y, high-y, high

I’ma fly, I’ma flatline

Outy when I drive

Bring me up, bitch, on both sides

Broke niggas always minus, wearin' designer

See me, I beat it out the line and it’ll fuck ya spine up

High-y, high-y, high

Yeah, baby, flatline

Outy when I drive, flatline

High-y, high-y, high

Yeah, baby, flatline

Outy when I drive

Bitch, on both sides

Part II: Blamed

Your call cannot be completed as dialed

Please check the number and dial again

Or dial 6−1-1

Don’t play me to the left, no

'Fore I pull up with that thing on me

I’m shootin', aimin' for the neck

And ain’t nobody finna bang on me

Ayy, I just check my bank account, I’m goin' dumb as fuck

I point her in the right direction, tell her, «Run it up»

I put her in the Louis line, nigga, one-to-ones

But we don’t fight

I take this .40 off my waist just like a tummy tuck

I don’t speak much unless it’s money, so

If they don’t know me personal, then I don’t take it personal

They love you when you wins high, let you know (Let you know)

But when your wins low, they treat you like a Urkel

I learn that family don’t always matter (Yeah, whoa)

I send these shots around your dome, now you silent (Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah)

Ayy, I’m just tryna buy me a big place (Big place)

I’m just tryna buy me a lawyer, help me beat the case

I’m just tryna fuck you, let you lead the way (The way)

And if we can’t make it to the bed, do it on the way

Don’t play me to the left, no

'Fore I pull up with that thing on me

I’m shootin', aimin' for the neck, oh

And ain’t nobody finna bang on me

I got your bitch, she coming over (Woo!)

She gon' bring her friend too (Woo!)

They gon' pop and bend it over (Woo!)

Like that pussy brand new

Get her an Uber when it’s over

Fuck that, just hop up in the coupe

What you gon' do?

'Cause you can’t really put the blame on us

If there’s a problem, I’ma pop up, I’ma shoot out the roof

You need to stop it 'fore I make your mama really miss you

Ain’t throwin' spirals, really big bullets and a couple missiles

I hit your bitch up that Friday and I told her to choose

She told me, «Yeah, we on for the nightcap»

I know your nigga won’t like that

Get his cap killed in his life jack'

That’s why I don’t take a day off

Hustle like every day is the Playoffs

Damn right, we fuckin' winnin'

Don’t like me, fuck your feelings (Feelings)

Money up to the ceilin' (Ceilin')

Smoke weed, I’m up there with it (There with it)

Like murder, make a killin'

See murder for no limit

White people in my business

Black women give me kisses

With all these snitches, it ain’t safe no more (No more)

Niggas sayin' names and they showin' up to court (Court)

I’ma take a shot, have one Newport

Before I light this bitch up and shoot it off the backboard

You got me fucked up

Don’t play me to the left, no

'Fore I pull up with that thing on me

I’m shootin', aimin' for the neck, oh

And ain’t nobody finna bang on me

I got your bitch, she coming over (Woo!)

She gon' bring her friend too (Woo!)

They gon' pop and bend it over (Woo!)

Like that pussy brand new

Get her an Uber when it’s over

Fuck that, just hop up in the coupe

What you gon' do?

'Cause you can’t really put the blame on us

(Ooh, huh, huh, huh)

I might slide in it (Slide in it)

I like bad bitches (Bad)

Bentley 350s (Skrrt)

I got three with me (Ooh)

It’s a blame game (Blame game)

Let my chains swang (Swang)

I don’t know her name (What?)

All these hoes the same (Yeah)

She want Chanel on her (Chanel)

Birkin bags, she was rackin' sale on 'em (Ooh)

I got the nail on her

Fuckin' friends and she think I’ma tell her (Ooh)

In my coupe, I got two

Niggas mad I got the juice

I’ma smash on your boo (Smash)

I got cash on me too

She won’t play me to the left

I’m a rich nigga to death (Death)

She gon' pull up with the neck

Boss up for a check (Check)

Know he want her

She got red bottoms on her (On her)

If I fuck her two times, she a goner (Huh)

Don’t play me to the left, no

'Fore I pull up with that thing on me

I’m shootin', aimin' for the neck, oh

And ain’t nobody finna bang on me

I got your bitch, she coming over

She gon' bring her friend too

They gon' pop and bend it over

Like that pussy brand new

Get her an Uber when it’s over

Fuck that, just hop up in the coupe

What you gon' do?

'Cause you can’t really put the blame on us