Skip to content

Wendigo – ICED OUT 50 CAL Lyrics

ICED OUT 50 CAL Lyrics – Wendigo

Racks in they face, stay in ya place
Racks on the chase, it ain’t no delay
I’m on the way
I’m in a Range or I’m in a plane
I’ma go to L.A. just to get to the cake
There’s way more to make, I’ma make every day
And my mind in a maze and I can’t find my pace
And I can’t find my place, not even a trace (Ayy)

You with the gang
Insane in the brain, I’m bringin’ the pain, bang
Fightin’ your place
What is your name? I’m in your face (Gang, gang)
Causing mayhem
Say you not gang, you can’t play him
Say what you sayin’ like you in the AM
Make it, take it, chasing all you fakers, just face it
You ridin’ them waves and copy and pastin’
You say you with but you ain’t with
You say you a Crip with the lil’ stick
Y ah, you say you’re all this ’til I’m in your mix
At your crib, then that’s it
Can’t relax, I’ma trip
Rockin’ Raf with th Rick
Kid, you must be kiddin’, it is what it isn’t
Livin’ how I’m livin’, I’ve been causin’ mischief
Chop it up, chop it, chop it up, chop it
Lockin’ ’em with it, clock it’s tickin’
The hottest of women, I’m watchin’ her pivot
Tip-to-toe flippin’ then trippin’ the tip in (Yeah)

Pulled up with the iced out Barrett fifty caliber sniper rifle
Pulled up with the iced out Jesus piece and I don’t even like the Bible (Huh)
Just lost my twenty-four karat gold watch riding motorcycles (Huh)
Pulled up with so much money, make a broke nigga feel suicidal (Huh)
Pulled up with the heat on me like a gas stove and I’m cooking niggas (Huh)
Even since I got money, I’ve been eatin’ better, nigga, I’ve been looking bigger (Huh)
I be on the lean, Percocet bars, Quaaludes, and a little liquor (Huh)
I be in the back gettin’ head, eatin’ caviar while I’m scrolling Twitter (Huh)
I just bought like fifty acres for my mother, father, brother, and my sister
I got so many colored pills on the paper plate that it look like Twister (Huh)
Bitch shakin’ ass, gas on the scale, ten grams might break the Richter (Huh)
I just sold a painting to the momma ten milli’ for some fuckin’ glitter (Huh)
I just left my kids at home without a motherfuckin’ babysitter (Huh)
I’m in the stu’ right now with Lil Jon, Pharrell, and Twista
I’m in the studio with a Jew and he just said, “Shoutout Hitler”
Iced out ring, iced out bitch both sitting on my middle finger

Racks in they face, stay in ya place
Racks on the chase, it ain’t no delay
I’m on the way
I’m in a Range or I’m in a plane
I’ma go to L.A. just to get to the cake
There’s way more to make, I’ma make every day
And my mind in a maze and I can’t find my pace
And I can’t find my place, not even a trace

Not even a trace
Not even a trace