In "Televised," Lil Baby moves through the grind and paranoia of street life, where loyalty is survival and money is the only buffer against death. The repeated demand that violence be televised turns revenge into a public spectacle, suggesting that being seen as ruthless matters as much as the act itself. Images of drugs hidden in packages sent to his mother’s house and cash stuffed in sweatpants collapse family and crime into one precarious routine. Beneath the bravado, the song insists that brotherhood is the only real protection when every day risks losing everything.
Televised Lyrics by Lil Baby
The streets is all I had to love on, I’m from a drug zone
Homie keep his mug on him, wait ’til all the bros home (Yeah)
Skinny-dippin’ with a model bitch, don’t got no clothes on her
I can get you orange and blue pills, I got a plug on ’em
ERD my jacket, we in Splash, and I gotta keep my ratchet
This shit, let ’em have it, couple Glocks, [?] my taxes
Hit her from the back, she gettin’ attacked, this shit like black magic
Tennis chains, a carat and a half on my ears gettin’ clarity
Nothin’ like these cappin’-ass rappers, really ’bout that action
Send ’em to my mama house, my sister signin’ for the packages
Ain’t no clothes in there (Yeah), couple ‘bows in there (Yeah)
Tuck my blick and fix my shirt before I go inside (Yeah)
Two, three, I’m servin’ different zaza, come and pick your kind
Ketamine’ll get you high, this shit for the vibes
Poppin’ shit, catch me outside, they gotta duck and dodge
Really up, I got at least a dime in my garage
Gotta show me she a twin, let’s have a ménage
Know the feds in town for switches and secret compartments
Every day, we push the pounds, we done beat all departments
They don’t want me in that mode, swear I’m really on hard
Fuck them niggas, let ’em die (Fuck you), I want it televised (Yeah)
I’d rather let it fly before I let it slide
[?], they trip behind me, I got them steppers out
.223, a hundred shots, swear that’s my favorite kind
TRX, can’t bulletproof, bricks came in an inner tube
Frontline with them stompers every time like I ain’t got shit to lose
All about that paper, on my grind, I got some shit to do
Use this as my interlude, I’m cool on all them interviews
Streets, I got ’em in a headlock, cut all my dreadlocks
Lawyer wanted seven hundred grand, he got it deadlock
Been on his ass the last twelve months, he shouldn’t have said nothin’
Don’t ask me how I feel about ’em, fuck ’em, take his head off
Hundred grand stuffed in my sweatpants, these from Chrome Hearts
Money over bitches, turn my back on gang? Hell, nah
She stay on my mind, I think about her ’cause head raw
They waitin’ in a line for these pills like it’s med call
You ain’t got a couple M’s put up, you should shut the fuck up
All of y’all can’t fuck with none of mine, I’m ready to put the check up
Try to keep it low, but on the high, this shit a different level
I’m my brother’s keeper, we all we got, we gotta stick together
She gon’ get to twerkin’ on me whenever, say I get her wetter
All this shit I got from out the gutter, duckin’ death forever
Never let ’em play me like a buster, want my loyalty? Never
Money make your whole life better, I want this shit forever
Fuck them niggas, let ’em die (Fuck you), I want it televised (Yeah)
I’d rather let it fly before I let it slide
[?], they trip behind me, I got them steppers out
.223, a hundred shots, swear that’s my favorite kind
