Baby Blue (feat. Chance the Rapper) Songtext - Action Bronson

Baby Blue (feat. Chance the Rapper) - Action Bronson

[Produced by Mark Ronson]

[Hook: Action Bronson]

Why you always all on my back?

Why you gotta do me like that?

Why you gotta act like a bitch when I'm with you?

Baby girl I'm blue

[Verse 1: Action Bronson]
Because you treat me like shit

I paid for the bed and never even slept in it

I paid for that crib I never stepped foot in

And now somebody else is eating all the pudding
Things change, now my dashboard wooden

All black Benz, like a young Doc Gooden
Dark shades, cause I'm stone crazy
Girl, we grown, stop playing on my phone, baby

All your childish attempts to make me angry fall short

Which only fuels the rage you have, because you have nothing
Understandable, I'm shining brilliant with five Brazilians
There were times I used to hide my feelings

Now I'm butt naked in the Lamborghini

And motherfuckers can't see me
Wait 'til this chick see me on TV, I make the shit look easy

Who would've thought I hit you right back?


[Verse 2: Action Bronson]
So many women wanna call me baby

And you wonder why the fuck that I ain't call you lately
Some would say that I'm the symbol for sex and uh

Others would hate, but I don't give 'em no breath
Go on a date, I'm at the crib with the chef and uh, that's me

And you could order whatever

The specialty is white snake and underwear sauce
You could probably catch me somewhere where the sun is next

And I understand that's only cause I'm popular
I'm getting topped off in the front row of the opera

As Bocelli sings the celly rings
I gotta go, you'll never know how good it feels to lay in bed with king

I'm not exactly flawless, but I'm gorgeous, just like a horse is
I know the thought of me succeeding makes a lot of people nauseous

Still I'm on the back of the boat taking pictures with the swordfish


[Verse 3: Chance The Rapper]
I hope you get a paper cut on your tongue

From a razor in a paper cup
I hope every soda you drink already shaken up
I hope your dreams dry like raisins in the baking sun
I hope your titties all saggy in your early 20's
I hope there's always snow in your driveway
I hope you never get off Fridays

And you work at a Friday's that's always busy on Fridays
I hope you win the lottery and lose your ticket
I hope it's Ben and Socrates poop all up in your kitchen
I hope the zipper on your jacket get stuck

And your headphones short, and your charger don't work
And you spill shit on your shirt
I hope your tears don't hurt, and I can smile in your face
Cut my losses, how Delilah changed my locks to a fade
I hope you happy, I hope you happy

I hope you ruined this shit for a reason, I hope you happy, igh!


[Outro: Chance The Rapper]

La la la la

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