lirik lagu week ago – chief keef
[intro: tadoe & chief keef]
louis vuitton f*ckin’ don, man, (yeah), call me honolulu, man (yeah)
you smokin’ fufu, we smokin’ out the 448, man
gasoline (yeah, yeah), on foenem, the supreme 93 (yeah, yeah)
[chorus: chief keef]
i’m still sippin’ wock’ from a week ago (lean)
you ain’t got to ask, b*tch, i keep the dough
like a bakery, my pockets got plenty rolls (fff beep, yeah yeah)
i think i’m a fool for conceited hoes
i hit your girl up ’bout a week ago (yeah yeah)
she was textin’ my phone, sendin’ nudes
she said she’s in love with my tennis shoes (b*tch, sos’ baby)
as soon as i arrive, she hop in the coupe (gbe baby, catch up)
[verse 1: chief keef]
two seats, one me and a trunk in the front
law sn*tched me up, but i’m innocent
these b*tches in love with my renaissance
and what’s in my cup lookin’ melanin’
nine times outta ten, you see me, i’m on the go
now he can’t go even though we from the ‘go
i gotta be on a rich n*gga honor roll
can’t settle, i’m still missin’ a whole bunch of more
you lookin’ for a cheater, balenci’s takin’ flight
gotta thank the lord, i’m not afraid of heights
rest up to all my brothers in paradise
just got dougie like i’m on my way to paradise
i need assistance to count these fifties
the law gon’ be mad as f*ck if they gotta frisk me
can’t trust no one, everyone’s fishy
i’ll be that f*ckin’ way ’til i’m sixty
[chorus: chief keef]
i’m still sippin’ wock’ from a week ago (lean)
you ain’t got to ask, b*tch, i keep the dough
like a bakery, my pockets got plenty rolls (fff beep, beep, beep)
i think i’m a fool for conceited hoes
i hit your girl up ’bout a week ago (yeah yeah)
she was textin’ my phone, sendin’ nudes (let’s get it, b*tch)
she said she’s in love with my tennis shoes (sos’ baby)
as soon as i arrive, she hop in the coupe (gbe baby, catch up)
[verse 2: chief keef]
i give her the d, i call her sufficient
i’m countin’ these bands, i call her statistics
when you take the shot, let it off with precision
’cause i’m at the line and it’s all my decision
b*tch, i’m a judge, i don’t fall as a witness
your b*tch is the one that’s involved in my sentence
i’m sentencin’ her to a night then we finish
let her smoke out the p, now she in heaven
toatin’ berettas, they flockin’ together
two hoes with me, they suck me together
i’m down they mouth, i’m not with the let up
but when it’s time to get out, they gon’ get up
money ain’t nothin’ to me, yeah, i’m all about the c, yeah
smokin’ a lotta weed, yeah, countin’ a lotta cheese, yeah
[chorus: chief keef]
i’m still sippin’ wock’ from a week ago (lean)
you ain’t got to ask, b*tch, i keep the dough
like a bakery, my pockets got plenty rolls (ffff beep, beep, beep)
i think i’m a fool for conceited hoes (beep, beep)
i hit your girl up ’bout a week ago (yeah, yeah)
she was textin’ my phone, sendin’ nudes (let’s get it)
she said she’s in love with my tennis shoes (b*tch, sos’ baby)
as soon as i arrive, she hop in the coupe (gbe baby, catch up)
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