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weighed it - chicken p lyrics

[intro]
(ayy, d3scart, you cookin’ up)
ayy, huh
(ayy, venzo, stay the f*ck out the kitchen)
mm, ayy, n*gga (buss one)
huh, ayy (yeah)

[chorus]
get on these beats and then i lose it (stupid, n*gga), don’t ever get this sh*t confused (uh*uh)
all this dog sh*t, look like i did the number two (two)
d*gg*n’ in this srt like this b*tch a pt cruiser (yeah)
i see the money in my sleep, not no f*ckin’ freddy krueger

[verse 1]
all these motherf*ckin’ turkey bags, look like we just left krogers
take it back to the stove, i’m bustin’ pendants off the overs (yeah)
go ask any n*gga ’bout mе, i got my city on my shoulders (go ask ’em)
t.i., just go and cut the stovе on, i’m finna bust a boulder (hmm)
yeah, i’m finna bust a brick, crack a pint and drop a six
bust a n*gga ass in public, don’t try that sh*t, i got my stick, n*gga (it’s with me)
pocket full of blues, i’m walkin’ ’round like i’m a crip (yeah)
all my n*ggas in the field, it ain’t nothin’ to get you hit
all my hoes just call the— uh, call me daddy like i’m trick (n*gga)
turn the p*ssy n*gga to an angel like he criss (mm)
frrt, frrt, huh, this b*tch blowin’ like a whistle (mm)
bae, right now, i’m in the kitchen, when i get done, i’m gon’ hit you (buss one)
he said he on a thirty*day, he need a sixty*day (yeah)
i’m on the phone with elliot, ain’t talkin’ missy, though
b*tch, if i don’t hit the bank right now, then i ain’t gon’ get the dough (come on, right now)
i’ma show you n*ggas how to ball, i set the pick and roll, huh (yeah)
i made ’em shut it down and then i hit the store
i got big boogers in the bezel like i pick my nose
all my b*tches choose me, no, i don’t pick my hoes
huh, brodie, throw this mask on, it’s time to hit the door (skrrt)
[chorus]
get on these beats and then i lose it (yeah), don’t ever get this sh*t confused (uh*uh)
all this dog sh*t, look like i did the number two (two)
d*gg*n’ in this srt like this b*tch a pt cruiser (yeah)
i see the money in my sleep, not no f*ckin’ freddy krueger (buss one)

[verse 2]
b*tch, i’m in a different bag, baby, this a cooking class
n*gga play with me, i make him bleed like he picked a scab
f*ck school, n*gga, i can read and i’m good at math (n*gga)
every week, i make fifty g’s and i ain’t exaggeratin’ (i swear to god)
huh, lil’ dog, i ball hard, i’m like a cancer patient (yeah)
told the b*tch to count the money right, she startin’ to aggravate me
d*ck*suckin’*ass n*ggas (stupid n*ggas), see money, they get to gravitatin’ (yeah)
i had to grind for this sh*t, i ain’t gon’ lie, i’m kinda glad i waited (kinda glad)
huh, my plug tried to short me, i know this n*gga mad i weighed it (i know this n*gga mad)
hmm, she like, “uh, guh, guh,” get to gaggin’, baby
mm, the way i sh*t on n*ggas, i got these n*ggas lookin’ constipated (yeah)
i rap, sell dope, and sell ‘bows, what’s your occupation? (mm, buss one)

[chorus]
get on these beats and then i lose it, don’t ever get this sh*t confused
all this dog sh*t, look like i did the number two
d*gg*n’ in this srt like this b*tch a pt cruiser
i see the money in my sleep, not no f*ckin’ freddy krueger (ain’t no f*ckin’ freddy, yeah)

- chicken p lyrics

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