Lyrics

Babyface Ray & Veeze – Bosses Linking With Bosses Lyrics

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Bosses Linking With Bosses Lyrics by Babyface Ray & Veeze

[Intro: Babyface Ray]
Yeah
Bitch

[Verse 1: Babyface Ray]
Find another nigga to play with
10K in ones, a day shift (Frrt)
Back to back to back, I’m racing (Back to back, okay, Treeze)
Pussy good, but nothin’ to lay with (Nothing, bitch, yeah, welcome to the— welcome to the mob, bitch, nigga, you know that)
Served a million times, I still don’t trust him, he might cross me
You ain’t slick as me, showed his hand and that’s gon’ cost him
I get 40K a show, I used to serve to all Milwaukee
I heard fans taking pictures ’cause it’s bosses link with bosses (I heard fans taking pictures)
Yeah, got it on me the sloppy way
Exotic bags, what you tryna pay? (Yeah)
I can’t lie, I got time today
Fendi coat with the Prada shades (Fendi coat)
I’ma keep shippin’, tote the stick, Doc Holliday (Doc Holliday)
I told her, “Hit thе door and handle business, stop tryna stay” (Stop tryna stay)

[Verse 2: Veeze]
Clearing out my rostеr, ’bout to play eliminate (Yeah)
I don’t know who more toxic, is it me or my lemonade?
Pull up to her job, get throat on her lunch break
Money got me spoiled, hoes do what I say
I’m from 7 Mile, niggas die, they touch me
Make like thirty thou’ every time they touch the 8
Niggas go through great heights just to show they hate
Blues with me all the time, I’m Beyoncé
Find another nigga to play with
Real hitters owe me favors
Snitch nigga, no relations
Pissy bitches like probation
Made your bed, gotta lay there
I’m ’bout to start a daycare
My bad side, ain’t safe there
All my niggas don’t play fair
Seven-figure nigga, you don’t know nothin’
Pokin’ out my pocket, but I still don’t give a ho nothin’
What you know about serving ’til the sun come?
Way before high school, they trusted me for coke runs
Label talkin’ two M’s, at first, they tried to lowball me
I just take the shit that I wear once to the Salvation Army
Boy, I’m in the brothers only world tour, the Navy army
Bake a nigga like a hot and ready butter parmesan
Made it out the jungle, I can’t lie, a couple scars on me
If they knew what I had on me right now, it’d be five stars on me
Nigga made at me for no reason, I feel sorry for him
On my granny, I ain’t gotta hit the stash or borrow nothin’
Find another nigga to play with
He a zero, Jayson Tatum
Street nigga, fuck on A-listers
Wavy like the fucking Caymans



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