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lirik lagu chicken little – babyfxce e

[intro]
yeah

[verse 1]
just give me twenty, i can make a hundred
showed you how to do it, ain’t my fault if you don’t make no money
a ball of twenties in my pocket lookin’ like an onion
seen that n*gga wearin’ a yellow shirt and turned him to a funyun
chop breathe fire, throw it in the dungeon
lil’ b*tch a liar, i can’t even trust her
twenty thousand dollars all twenties, i can’t even tuck it
walk in the jewelry store and spend sixty ’cause i’m on a budget
and just made a ten (ten)
f*ck her one night, then i never f*ck again (come on)
she ain’t shakin’ ass ‘less she do it with her friends
i ain’t f*ck in a minute, i’m tryna do it off a ten (b*tch)
if i ain’t got no ten, then i’ma do it off the henn’
if you put some dollars on it, i’ma take it off his head (gone)
double*tap the fft to his face, now he dead
all this money in my hands, say she like the way i spread it (yeah)
yeah, my lil’ ho badder (yop), pockets unaverage
i’ma f*ck you one more time, then you gotta go after (get the f*ck on)
yeah, i been seein’ money, n*gga, way before rappin’
movin’ so fast goin’ straight, i can’t go backwards
i’m at the door waitin’ for my ‘bow package
grab that one with the b*tton ’cause that b*tch blow faster
beat her down, then i got a show after
i’ma f*ck the b*tch once, pass to lil’ bro after
[chorus]
chop hold a hundred, but it’s fifty in it
tryna squeeze a hundred in these skinny denims
pass a n*gga b*tch to my mans, monkey in the middle
i know it feel like the sky is falling when your chicken little
gave the b*tch a perc’, she ate it like a skittle (huh?)
drive the whip berserk ’cause this b*tch a rental
glock 43 hot pink, but it still’ll k!ll you
makin’ plays in the drive*thru, meet me at the window

[verse 2]
she think she leavin’ with me, but she not (uh*uh)
b*tch, you stayin’ here, but i’m leavin’ with the top
if i live the crib, you know i’m leavin’ with my glock
i ain’t legal with the chop, but it’s illegal or get shot
b*tch, i ain’t the two, i’m number one (one)
done walking n*ggas down, b*tch, i’m finna run
i need a blood test, i treat these n*ggas like my son
treat my brother like my lung, need some money, i’m like, “huh?”
ayy, i need a bad b*tch up in the front (bad)
one that got some ass and put on pants, she gotta jump (sheesh)
bro, you gotta hold it with two hands, ’cause that could jump
i got red inside my cup, hundred bands inside the trunk
yeah, i just thought of somethin’ (what?), y’all can’t f*ck with me (at all)
distrokid mad, they owe me like a buck*fifty (f*ck ’em)
keep all hoes around me, that’s ’cause i don’t trust n*ggas
can’t see the bottom of my drank ’cause my cup different
runnin’ n*ggas over, the truck lifted
sinning like a simpson (uh*huh)
tried to tell them n*ggas, but they ain’t listen (naw)
the glock shoot fast, it’s a switchy
for all you n*ggas switchin’
my other gun’ll hit you from a distance (b*tch)
[chorus]
chop hold a hundred, but it’s fifty in it
tryna squeeze a hundred in these skinny denims
pass a n*gga b*tch to my mans, monkey in the middle
i know it feel like the sky is falling when your chicken little
gave the b*tch a perc’, she ate it like a skittle
drive the whip berserk ’cause this b*tch a rental
glock 43 hot pink, but it still’ll k!ll you
makin’ plays in the drive*thru, meet me at the window

- babyfxce e

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