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back stroke - big steff & chicken p lyrics

[intro]
hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm
man, she gon’ love this sh*t, huh
how i be comin’ in with g’s
(y’all can’t do it like k*love)
ayy

[verse 1]
i fell in love with crackin’ g’s, my b*tch love it when i stack it
before i get it to your door, i gotta vacuum seal a package
i made a k!lling in the o, but i got heads out in grafton
i’m the one who take these n*ggas to the store, so why you askin’?
i got a brick for sale, i got your b*tch for sale, ain’t no difference
been playin’ feisty like isaiah, i be shootin’ like a piston
really havin’, when they talk that broke sh*t, i go distancin’
you know we headtap trolls, don’t put me in your mentions
yeah, i donе ran my bag up, ain’t no way i’m goin’ back broke
my heads spend thousands, i givе ’em everything they ask for
i can vacuum seal a— i made a k!lling off the lactose
grandpa grams movin’ like an old man, they think my back broke

[verse 2: chicken p]
hmm, all this water got me swimmin’, watch this backstroke
hmm, i been crackin’ real bad like my back broke
i took a hundred calls, this b*tch froze, i think the jack broke
they wanted to see a n*gga ball, i’m finna give ’em what they ask for, huh
your baby daddy broke than a b*tch, he ain’t got no cheese (hmm)
yeah, i’m quick to bless a b*tch like i just seen her sneezin’
bust ’em out the vacuum seal, hmm, we gon’ need febreze (hmm)
you know i’m startin’ five, b*tch, i play the whole season, huh
i cut the b*tch allowance, caught the ho cheatin’, huh
i’m quick to ball out, i don’t need no reason, huh
this a whole chicken, you gon’ need some more seasonin’
hmm, i get the head and head home, that’s ’cause this ho bleedin’, huh
[verse 3]
can’t be stopped, yeah, we ballin’ all four seasons, huh
i be quick to bend a block and show the ho that i don’t need her
i’m a shark like i’m that’s so raven, n*gga, yeah, i’m gon’ s—
the last thirty days, i been grindin’, n*gga, i ain’t been gettin’ no sleep
huh, n*gga, watch me pop it
thirty thousand in my pocket, n*gga , f*ck a wallet, huh
jump out blowin’ with the drac’, n*gga, watch how i drop it
fours up, fours down, this sh*t never stoppin’
i’ma put this b*tch on skates
every time the jack ring, you know i’m rushin’ to the pape’
sensei in the kitchen, i’ll chop this b*tch to shake
like when the water hit the grease, i’ma pop it in they face
i’ma twist, twist, twist until that f*ckin’ rake break

[verse 4: mariboy mula mar]
40 on me like udonis haslem
i’m pushin’ so many pounds, caught a muscle spasm
lil’ poor*ass n*gga, you ain’t really havin’
factory rims on the track’, i don’t want no davins
just made twenty*five thousand trappin’ in some lanvins
just make this b*tch eat some d*ck out here in nebraska
all this motherf*ckin’ ice, i’m colder than alaska
tryna go band for band with me, you gon’ need some backup
n*gga, all you hear is beep when i back up, huh
bogartin’, i’ma drive this b*tch like a mack truck
i know when bro see an opp, he just pulled his mask up
lil’*ass n*ggas thought they was ahead ’til they got passed up
[verse 5]
ayy, first they was playin’ on my top, i had to run my racks up
i put some cameras on the crib, it’s cameras when i back up
i know you playin’ in your ass, you ain’t never stashed nothin’, n*gga
i put a fft on the glock if n*ggas tryna act tough
then put a twenty on a forty, you know i double up my profit
hittin’ roof, stretchin’ dog, i’m in the b*tch playin’ bop it
you know we all cbs, so how the f*ck they finna stop it?

[verse 6]
them n*ggas can’t, they try to go against it, put this bag upside your noggin
and it be hard for him to pick, just like a blunt, everybody poppin’ sh*t
i finger*f*ck the pistol like my b*tch, i keep one up, ain’t gotta c*ck the grip
and twelve*fifty of it tax with fendi kicks, but i ain’t got time to kick it
eatin’ d*ck, spray it on my drawers, i know she taste the clive christian
and they can’t do it like sh*t, been tryna copy, in secret competition
in bimmer competition
a louis belt, bands makin’ me sag, my mom like, “boy, pull up your britches”
and i go left, right, left like i’m dancin’ when i’m shakin’
i paid a rack, pop darker than some brandy, it ain’t your daddy whiskey
and he need bifocals, even with his glasses, n*ggas can’t see me

[outro]
ayy

- big steff chicken p lyrics

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