Baby Father

Let's get it
Gang, gang

Ah, ah, real trapstar, living like a rockstar (rockstar)
Walking with the shooters in my roster (with the shooters)
In the Hellcat we light up the helicopter (hellcat)
The Baby Father like for the times 'el Boster (Baby Father, boy)
The gang in the club

The Devils of Lloren', security didn't even check (The Devils, smell)
In the VIP all crazy, we pull out the Glocks (with the Glizzy)
I know she's your baby, mommy, but she's dead
She got hooked on the drip spending racks on Dior

This lifestyle is normal for me now (normal)
In the Raptor through Santurce, the Glizzys with chips (ah, ah, ah, ah!)
All are full like Hydro and Spiff (Full)
With 50 devils on stage like Chief Keef (Hydreezy)

We're used to the fire, I don't even burn anymore (gang)
I go out to the parties armed, I don't back down (with the Dracos)
All the shooters with the sticks and with the new cars (all the shooters)
With the brothers, all the Glizzys we light up in fire

We empty the clips, we change them and we give them to you again (Money Wayy)
They want to sound like me because we change the game (Stash Money Gang)
I want to see their faces when I bring a Lambo to Calle 4 and we celebrate with Buchanan's and the Dracos
Talk to me about money and we analyze the contracts (money, boy)
Now they're in the thousands if before they were dead contracts (shh, ah-ah)

They still don't believe, you can see it on their faces when they see us
We negotiate with the bosses not rookies (damn rookies)
It's the Money Wayy, bastard, I have a pint of what? That's lean (dirty boy)
Dirty pop, Fanta and codeine (codeine)
Bastard, I really die for my team
The packs in the band, flow Yao Ming, 9X19 the spring (gang, gang, gang; Gang, gang, gang)

Real trapstar, living like a rockstar (rockstar)
Walking with the shooters in my roster (with the shooters)
In the Hellcat we light up the helicopter (ah, ah)
The Baby Father like for the times 'el Boster (grr, grr)
The gang in the club

The Devils of Lloren', security didn't even check (The Devils, smell)
In the VIP all crazy, we pull out the Glocks (The Glizzys)
I know she's your baby, mommy, but she's dead (she's dead, heard?)
She got hooked on the drip spending racks on Dior

The street is tied in with the Money Wayy (Money Wayy)
Like the combs of my war, tied with tape (with the tape)
They have to go to the gym, coward, you can't handle Kay (you can't handle Kay; Ooh, ooh)
I be selling dope, bastard, made 50K (ah, ah)

In the band, we're going to clean up the money singing
In the booth and all the bitches are calling (you feel me?)
I let them loose, boy, this is that perc talk (ah)
We crown the turn, we knock down the door (ooh, ooh)

It's the Mvrda Gvng (Mvrda Gvng)
Full of VVS with the Audemars (full, smell)
They didn't believe and now they're calling to record (you feel me?)
Nyxto, explain to them that it's business, not personal (we kill people iced out)
They have to talk to The Devils of Lloren' (Stash Money Gang)

I keep burning sour gushers with Gusano (ah, ah, ah)
In the bunker I bill with El Enano (tell me, Enano)
Or I'm with Eladio, smoking backpacks through the States (brr)
We're playing in the street, not on the radio (Sauce Gang, Mvrda Gang; ah, ah; gang, gang)

Real trapstar, living like a rockstar (rockstar)
Walking with the shooters in my roster (with the shooters)
In the Hellcat we light up the helicopter (in the Hellcat)
The Baby Father like for the times 'el Boster (Baby Father, boy)
The gang in the club

The Devils of Lloren', security didn't even check (The Devils, smell)
In the V.I.P. all crazy, we pull out the Glocks (The Glizzys)
I know she's your baby, mommy, but she's dead (he's an opp, you feel me?)
She got hooked on the drip spending racks on Dior (ah, ah)

The Devils, son of a bitch (ooh, ooh)
Those who control the underworld and the tar
Tell me, Nyxto, Hydreezy (gang, gang, gang, gang)
You know this is easy (tell me, Bassyy)
Tie your shoes, smell (uh, uh, Stash Money Gang)

I'm going to stay with the game, smell (ah, ah)
Rest in peace Yeru (Money Wayy)
Shout out to all my devils, Stash Money Gang, the divers, ah, ah
All those people who press buttons, mine in jail (a greeting to all the gangs and all the mafia')
Those who get off and smash faces, son of a bitch (cry Torre', La Metro, Santurce; Grr, grr, pow)