Dum, Dumb, and Dumber Lyrics – Lil Baby, Young Thug, Future

Read the full Dum, Dumb, and Dumber lyrics by Lil Baby, Young Thug and Future along with the music video, song credits, release information and other details about the song. If you enjoy Lil Baby's music, you can also explore F U 2x and Redbone, two other songs by Lil Baby.

[Intro: Lil Baby]
Frozen stones in the air, D's at the bottom
GA certified before I was GIA certified
Mr. M-In-Cash anytime you see me, you know?
Only a few rappers play a duck to catch a duck, you know?
Tricking n!ggas who tricking n!ggas, you know?
Supercar-driving, Gulf Stream-flying, designer-wearing golden child, you know?
Wham (Wheezy outta here)
Let's go

[Verse 1: Lil Baby]
Hopping off a plane to a matchbox
Hundred times platinum, fu*k a plaque
Bulletproof the tires, run flat (I'm going)
Cutthroat, I give her one chance (Go 'head)
her out and gave her one band (No problem)
Twenty-five cars, one man (I pop 'em)
Driveway like a mini dealership (Come park it)
He went sour, cut the business with him (You bold)
Crack smoker, I was living with 'em (Auntie 'nem)
Weird hoes, I ain't dealing with 'em (Can't see me)
Overseas, they love a real n!gga (European)
She don't like it, but she deal with it (She stingy)
'Rari's back-to-back, that's tough (Two million)
Hear us 'round the corner, that's us (Skrrt)
Putting on stuff, best dressed (Night time)
Flip phone, black Nike Tech (My kind)
We done done it all, what's next? (Too picky)
Boss Man, name on the checks (Big business)
First one's come through trim (Literally)
Dipset, Jim Jones baller (Big bucker)
Life of a fu*king hustlerholic (I'm hustling)
She know not to test me, I'ma call her (Hush)
Bro in prison, living through a pack (And)
Farewell, I don't see a scratch (Real close)
She ain't mine if she don't got me tatted (No way)
OCD, need everything intact (Clean up)
B!tches tryna play me like I'm wack (B!tch, who?)
Real P, I bet' not go for that
Riding through Detroit in all black
Pulling up on Pluto in the 6 (Bird gang)
Hood full of dope-slanging tricksters (My neighbors)
I come from that 4, I'm a real one (I came up)

[Interlude: Young Thug]
Yeah, n!gga, King Spider back
I don't even believe I was locked up, for real, for real
I was having my way the whole time, fool, you know what I'm saying?, yeah

[Verse 2: Young Thug]
Two Lamb' coupes, four Lamb' trucks
Pulling up, what the fu*k? (What the fu*k?)
Neck, wrist, fingers slush (Eee)
Order hundred G's, that's us (Hee)
New Rolls Cullinan truck (Skrrt)
Dog on the side like a bus, yeah
Shawty mad, ain't going back and forth (Uh)
Never heard a rich n!gga fuss (No)
Heard these n!ggas going out sad
'Rari truck came with a bag
Only fu*king overseas s*it
These U.S. b!tches kinda bad
College b!tch, I made her leave a frat
Fu*ked my brother, gave the b!tch a pass
Trapping in the studio, I'm glad
Break a bale, the junkie get the trash (Hee)
I was taught to pay a b!tch to leave, yeah
I go Birk', Chanel for the fleece (Birks)
Four 'em at a time like a sheikh (Four)
I been on a boat, screaming, "Ski" (Ski)
Saint Laurent, they bring it to the beach (Beach)
She was Portuguese and Middle East (Woo)
She snorted off the ki' (Snorted)
Got her screaming R.I.P. to Keed (R.I.P. to Keed)
N!ggas can't stand us (Uh-huh)
Doggy, put your mans up (Okay)
Walked her down in Lanvins, yeah
Pocket full of grandparents (Okay)
Old school, the Trans Am one (Skrrt)
Cullinan, the ambulance one (Skrrt)
You good, your mans can't come, yeah
I don't give a fu*k 'bout nothing

[Interlude: Future]
Yeah
Brr, brr, ski
Ayy, say gang

[Verse 3: Future]
Pour it on thick like syrup
Elevator pad at the crib
Shopping bags all on the floor
Never seen me twice with a ho
Backyard vibes by the ocean
Driveway look like a car show
Three hundred-fifty million, I'm the G.O.A.T
Custom leather Pucci on the door
Fifty birds of dog on my wrist
Coc*ine jumping off my b!tch
Thirty-two shots with the glitch
Talking Vicks, then we talking Chris
Micro mini' with a beam
Putting the side hoes in Celine
Geeking off the millions like a bean
Push a button and make your mama grieve
Eat it up, she working for a boss
Out the country, living like a boss
Princess-cut and showing all the flaws
Graduated, cooking up the raw
Pushing skateboard, Tony Hawk
Cranking up the car when I talk
Alligator, Hermès stuff
Dropped a million dollars on a truck
Codeine bottles, they for us
Put them legal sticks on the bus
Opp tour, straight to pent'
Three bad b!tches getting hit
Solitaires made the eyes squint
Smell the dirty money through the vents
House full of dead presidents

[Outro: Lil Baby, Young Thug & Future]
Wham
Spider
Ayy, say gang