[Chorus: Maxo Kream]
You can't smoke around, sit around, gotta cop and dip
Move a hundred pound out of bounds, now I'm getting chips
When I was young, I was hella dumb, my trap wasn't shit
Went from a one 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 five pounds short, stupid nigga couldn't tell (Well)
Blowing up my cell (Well), should have brought a scale
[Verse 1: Maxo Kream]
Fork whipping, mixing grit
Used to burn up all my shit
Copped me a scale and zip
Hold on, now I'm getting it
Finesse a stain, finesse a plug, finesse that dope, finesse a bitch
Finessed about a hundred thousand grams using counterfeit
I be strapped up, ready, trigger happy, posted with the toolie
Pistol packing, always packing, I be packing like I'm moving
The ones that like to sit around will be the ones to try to do you
So I keep a Mossberg shotty with a kick like Jin Kazuya
Keep my trapping on the low 'cause it ain't everybody business (Shh, ayy, nigga, shut the fuck up, lil' nigga)
I got twenty-five to life inside them cabinets in my kitchen (Real shit, man, keep that on the low, man)
Hundred pounds in the trash bag, Maxo do the dishes (Maxo do the dishes)
Hundred rounds in the AR mag, I can't leave no witness (Chopper get to spitting)
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 my door
Got J's to wash my car for a lil' crack of coke
Ring my— Ring my— Ring my doorbell, come in and take your shoes off (Uh-huh)
Wax in the oven, take it out and let it cool off (Okay)
Pack right here (Maxo), you don't even gotta sit down (Maxo)
Don't get cozy (Maxo), get this shit and move the fuck around (Maxo)
[Chorus: Maxo Kream & KEY!]
You can't smoke around, sit around, gotta cop and dip
Move a hundred pound out of bounds, now I'm getting chips
When I was young, I was hella dumb, my trap wasn't shit
Went from a one 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 five pounds short (Ayy, uh), stupid nigga couldn't tell (Ayy, okay, well)
Blowing up my cell (Uh, okay, well), should have brought a scale (Uh, okay)
[Verse 2: KEY!]
Thirty-six O's, that's a bad hoe
Thirty-six dummy bricks, that's a stupid bitch (Okay, okay)
Introduce that stupid bitch to them bad hoes (Okay, okay)
Pockets on overload, huh, now your pockets swoll' (Okay, yeah)
Who don't want pressure? (Who don't want pressure?) Who ain't got pressure? (Who ain't got pressure?)
Boy, we fucking shining (Boy, we fucking shining), huh, pressure lake in diamonds (Pressure lake in diamonds)
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 just like Congo
Where the bass go? Where the bass go?
Talking to the engineer like, "Where the bass go?" (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Trap house swoll', trap house closed
I told my youngins, "Hit the block even if it's cold" (Cold, cold)
Now they coming back hot, I'm like, "Damn, woah"
What y'all gone and told? (Gone and told)
[Chorus: Maxo Kream]
You can't smoke around, sit around, gotta cop and dip
Move a hundred pound out of bounds, now I'm getting chips
When I was young, I was hella dumb, my trap wasn't shit
Went from a one 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 five pounds short, stupid nigga couldn't tell (Well)
Blowing up my cell (Well), should have brought a scale
Out The Door was written by KEY! & Maxo Kream.
Out The Door was produced by WOLFE de MÇHLS.
Maxo Kream released Out The Door on Thu Mar 05 2015.