Fuck Around & Find Out Lyrics

Fuck Around & Find Out Lyrics – Key Glock

Steve Zidane
Bro, he got the fuckin’ sauce, boy
Yeah
Ayy
Ayy, ayy

I just put this lil’ (Whew) bad bitch (Whew) in time-out (Whew)
I press a button, send them killers (Ah, ah, ah) to ya hideout (Ayy)
I ain’t just rappin’; you gon’ fuck around and find out
Catch a nigga lackin’ with his bitch tryna dine out (What?)
Yeah, my shirt wrinkled (Ah, ah, ah) but I still brought that iron out
Beefin’ with the kid, I guarantee youse gettin’ slimed out
Seventeen, makin’ plays, yep, at the Hyatt House (Woah)
Runnin’ through these (Whew) hoes (Whew) like I play (Whew) for Cleveland Browns—yeah

Bronem got drums, choppers singin’ like the Beatles—yeah (Whew)
I’m all about my green like a Philadelphia Eagle (Yeah)
Caught this nigga lackin’; he was sweatin’ like a preacher (Ah)
This bitch call me sexy, just don’t know that I’m the reaper (Yeah) (Ah)
I’m married to Monifah; I sip codeine by the liter (Yeah)
It’s Cutthroat la familia; ask about it—I’m the leader (Yeah)
These niggas act like divas; I just stay up in my lane (Ayy)
I made my first two hunnid racks and went to Johnny Dang (Yeah)
My watch cost a lot even though that motherfucker (Whew) plain (Woo) (Ayy)
These niggas talk a lot and they still won’t do a thing (Shit)
Ayy, I just left the lot, (Skrr) yup, in the brand new thing (Skrr)
I can’t stop hustlin’, baby; (Whew) this a (Whew) money train (Let’s go)
Don’t go against the grain; (Grain) that’s playin’ with your life (Yeah)
They call me Mr. Glock; introduce yo’ ass to Christ (Yeah)
They say you can’t afford it if you can’t buy it twice (Yeah)
So I went and bought a double R, aight? (Ayy)
You know I (Whew) be poppin’ (Whew) my shit—ayy (Whew)
You know I ain’t worried ’bout no bitch—ayy (Yeah)
You know I’m too busy gettin’ rich—ayy (Yeah)
You know I still keep that blick (Baow, baow, baow, baow)

I just put this lil’ (Whew) bad bitch (Whew) in time-out (Whew)
I press a button, send them killers (Ah, ah, ah) to ya hideout (Ayy)
I ain’t just rappin’; you gon’ fuck around and find out
Catch a nigga lackin’ with his bitch tryna dine out (What?)
Yeah, my shirt wrinkled (Ah, ah, ah) but I still brought that iron out
Beefin’ with the kid, I guarantee youse gettin’ slimed out
Seventeen, makin’ plays, yep, at the Hyatt House (Woah)
Runnin’ through these (Whew) hoes (Whew) like I play (Whew) for Cleveland Browns—yeah

Runnin’ through these hoes (Whew) like I’m playin’ (Whew) for the Bengals (Yeah)
The bitch look like a angel but at night, turn to a demon (Uh)
My hood bitch got a trick; he look just like William Regal (Yeah)
My lil’ bro pullin’ stunts, shootin’ shit like Steven (Baow, baow, baow) Seagal
Yeah, I smoke a nigga like a cigar (Baow, baow)
Shoot first; can’t like a nigga get one off on me
Yeah, and I put that on me (Ayy)
Put a nigga on a plate, (Ah, ah, ah) eat lunch meat (Yeah)

I just put this lil’ (Whew) bad bitch (Whew) in time-out (Whew)
I press a button, send them killers (Ah, ah, ah) to ya hideout (Ayy)
I ain’t just rappin’; you gon’ fuck around and find out
Catch a nigga lackin’ with his bitch tryna dine out (What?)
Motherfucker gonna find out
Haha
Baow, baow, baow, baow
Glizzock
Yeah

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