Hit-Boy
It Ain’t My Fault
[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 n***as 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 n***as 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 n***as simpin' over bitches I done passed up

[Verse 4: Babyface Ray]
Real n***as 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, n***a

[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 n***as 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 n***a
Pints in the cabinet, lights, camera, action
I'ma keep a cup full when them cameras flashin'
Give my n***as 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' n***as 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 n***as never showed
And a heart on one below
And you n***as came up out the mud and didn't even grow
Tunnel vision, carpal tunnel, n***as 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 n***a, 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 n***as on they John Wick and leave you John Doe