[Lyric] It Aint My Fault (Babyface Ray, Big Sean & Hit-Boy)

[Part I]

[Intro: Big Sean]
Yeah
Silly-ass, fuckin' run up, smackin' up
Yeah (Hit-Boy)

[Chorus: Big Sean & Babyface Ray]
It ain't my fault I got that glow and I can't get it off me
It ain't my fault these niggas ain't solid and they movin' faulty
It ain't my fault I'm rockin' Ricky, keep that blicky on me
It ain't my fault when I pop out, nothin' less than fifty on me

[Verse 1: Big Sean & Babyface Ray]
It ain't my fault that they got shifty on me
Tony Hawk, I'm used to niggas gettin' tricky on me
Party pack, told her, "Take that," went Diddy on her
Trackhawk, I hit the pedal, three-sixty on 'em
Ain't my fault my back got the whole city on it
Ain't my fault my back got the whole city on it
[Verse 2: Babyface Ray & Big Sean]
Keep the thriller close, I'm protectin' my energy
My advice to you, don't become my enemy
Groupies grab me at my shows, so I know that they feelin' me
I just left 'em in her throat, girl, you know ain't no kissin' me, yeah
In the trenches rockin' Sean Bape, your shawty wild (For real)
I was quick to slam her like DeAndre

[Verse 3: Big Sean]
It ain't my fault you got your shit snatched
It ain't my fault you had no money, go get your shit back
It ain't my fault I drew the blueprint, now I'm livin' that
Naomi Osaka's arena, we servin' and playin' with big racks
Got the baddest face down, ass up
Since I got my tax up, the most you ever made in your life
I done made, forgot about, and had it stashed up
Simple niggas simpin' over bitches I done passed up

[Verse 4: Babyface Ray]
Real niggas goin' out of style, feel like the last one
I got my bag up, ain't sit around when I ain't have much
I fuck on your ho, hop out the bed and turn my swag on
Ain't no more humble shit, I'm poppin' shit, I'm poppin' tags on 'em, nigga

[Chorus: Big Sean & Babyface Ray]
It ain't my fault I got that glow and I can't get it off me
It ain't my fault these niggas ain't solid and they movin' faulty
It ain't my fault I'm rockin' Ricky, keep that blicky on me
It ain't my fault when I pop out, nothin' less than fifty on me
[Part II]

[Intro: Big Sean]
H-H-Hit-Boy on the beat, so bitch, so you gotta go berserk

[Verse 1: Babyface Ray]
Got expensive taste, still a hood nigga
Pints in the cabinet, lights, camera, action
I'ma keep a cup full when them cameras flashin'
Give my niggas hope, I feel like a pastor
Wanna live like me? You might have to chance it
No, I don't need no tip, boy, my diamonds dancin'
Brodie told me 'bout you, bitch, yeah, actin' classy
Yeah, I heard about you, know you heard about us
All my lil' niggas shoot, feel like Curry father (Pew)
If I want it, then I get it, Timmy Turner problems

[Verse 2: Big Sean]
Cameras on me like I'm walkin' out the trial
I'm up thirty fuckin' million, she gon' want the child
Tax bracket out of reach, I ain't reachin' out
NBA-type NDAs, ain't shit leakin' out
Rememberin' all the love you bitch-ass niggas never showed
And a heart on one below
And you niggas came up out the mud and didn't even grow
Tunnel vision, carpal tunnel, niggas politickin'
What the fuck you runnin' for?
Whip came with a ticket, valet keys
She gon' cheat for LA breeze
I'm with Babyface, I feel like L.A. Reid
[Verse 3: Babyface Ray]
I'm with Sean Don, no Dom Perignon, bitch, it's lean
Push to start, foreign hit it, that bitch fart, what's a key?
They keep tellin' me to keep this shit a hundred, I'm a G
From the dirty glove, gotta keep it on you in the streets
What more can I say?
Promise you I'm lyin' if I say I ain't in the A
Keep them squares out your circle, so we flick 'em through the day
Trust me, old friends hatin' on a nigga, bitches love me
Hands all dirty in the field like it's rugby
Gang ties, mafioso like I'm Lucky Luciano
Pints comin' in from Philly, so I rock Milano

[Outro: Big Sean]
Americano, M's stack on top of M's, shit look like McDonald's
I don't need a Kim K, I need Griselda Blanco
All my niggas on they John Wick and leave you John Doe