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lirik lagu love sosa – chubby jag

(hook)
b-tches call me sosa, know i got my toaster
snapping like a cobra, i put you on a poster
raining on this thick b-tch, she got cake like oprah
hustling like i’m sposed to, chubby slanging coca
these b-tches call me sosa, sosa, sosa
these b-tches call me sosa, they know i got that yola
these b-tches call me sosa, sosa, sosa
these b-tches call me sosa, they know i got that yola
these b-tches call me sosa

(verse)
whole thang, break down, broke dead, straight now
b-tches know my motto homes, -ss up, face down
spam in, steak now, f-cking n-gg- live greater now
your man a trip, my man a flip with banana clips
this ape town
black with drugs, white powder, rich from c-ke, white power
real n-gg-, your type coward,
cali bowling like dwight howard
hustle man i f-ck with n-gg-s that love the c-ke and they like sour
graveyard we selling rock you can come up quick on the right hour
boss n-gg-, that bi, got these haters on my bi
i ain’t never had sh-t handed to me, i go and get it like ti
high as f-ck no come down, p-ssy n-gg-s don’t come round
p-ssy n-gg-s that come round, same p-ssy get gunned down
real sitch, you a snitch n-gg-, you a b-tch n-gg-, your girl hard
drive by my girl car, cause i take the rug you know world star
n-gg- wailing like payday, n-gg- wailing that k spray
boss n-gg- with the bizness homes, grown man like kay slay

(verse)
i’m superman like cole homie, yellow stones look cold on me
real rap got the n-gg-s gone, crazy swag got the hoes on me
they froze on me, they stuck now, just met can f-ck now
family first no dummies round, if that money round, i get bust down
chubby i don’t know why home, they hating on me just die home
my goonies n-gg-s gonn ride home
i’m chef making them pies home
my pad, no eye home, from south central to the sty home
she getting wet and you get on planes, i get in jets who fly home
turtle top get wailing, mask on i’m wailing, i’m wailing
i’m stylin, this b-tch can’t hold her smile in
hollow points from the chrome fly, that red dot, that led pop
your head shot and your dome fly
i’m for that bread n-gg- home prize
murder beats i know it’s jag, hustle hard and i know the sack
i been around c-ke for so long, i can smell the sh-t and just know it’s bad
2 times for the dope game, running out i need more cane
t-ti boy got 2 necklace, chubby jag need 4 chainz
i’m flaming on them n-gg- propane,
never banking, my folks bank
label calling me all star, when i came in it had no game
f-ck with fiends that smoke crack, smoke weed and got a nose game
run around with my bullsh-t, i’m balling out with this rose game
chubby yeah real spit, flat top, gold chain
15 for a verse n-gg-, 30 lards for the whole thang
real n-gg- sh-t, we making them real n-gg- chips
i got that coca on that sosa hoe, that real n-gg- hit
chubby!

- chubby jag

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