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lirik lagu what it look like – chief keef

[intro]
aye, aye, aye, gang, gang, squad, squad
squad, squad, squad, squad, squad, squad

[verse 1]
you let her give you a milk mustache
i was on my way to get the cash
you sent a d*ck picture, she said you sad
all these blue handreds where my racks
i used to need money on the gas
i used to need 10 on the smoke
i was in the alleyway, we on front$treet, hand on the dope
sl!ck knows fans for the folks
b*tch i’m from the motherf*ckin’ go, where your chances is a low
if you getting bread, you could be toast
i been on the west for years, i might hit my city wearing somе locs
yo hoe be coming ten up on my posts
3 bands on this b*tch but i still might f*ck hеr on the floor
stick i’m stuck to angels like i’m post
told that b*tch you better not be on the line you get chops
new choppa i got came with a scope
n*ggas dont know how to use a gun
how the f*ck they gone know how to use a scope?
d*mn

[chorus]
run up boy, you gonna die
it’s a .45, what it look like?
streets don’t love you, momma told you that
got a fatass strap, it’ll blow your back
two starphones, 5*10 blunts
chefs just made a plat, gone and get one
i’m a greedy n*gga, i’m on my 61
i got me a b*tch, and got my d*ck one
[verse 2]
i got me a chain and got one for my daughter too
lv slippers look like i’m finna barbecue
all these dope other than rabiot think a harves too
came down the wrong black we turn these cops to barbie, cuz
all my star devils at war i feel like rb2
we gotta to drive throught them, we serving beef like armies do
i might pull up to the white house in an army suite
you want some smoke yeah we got the same sh*t that the army do
i might wear an army suite with a balenciga boots
folks broke his hand on yo sh*t, now yo ass snagga tooth
i don’t remember last summer sold grand me a slag or two
but i be flying around, fly as h*ll like the falcon do
pull up to the spot and she see my she be like that’s my boo
if you see me ridin’ around in a car with em, them my dudes
finna serve an avelanche, pack my boots
that he say she say sh*t, most of this sh*t be semi true
lamborghini lifting up like a semi*tool
we got sigal squeeze pistols, we got semi*auto
put the h*llcat up, like whatchu him i do?
ain’t you chief sosa? h*ll naw am i who?
lion, tigers, polar bears in my zoo
pull up really strapped, like a chemical
you might pull up and see me in your avenue
b*tch i’m almighty, like the heaven dudes
[chorus]
run up boy, you gonna die
it’s a .45, what it look like?
streets don’t love you, momma told you that
got a fatass strap, it’ll blow your back
two starphones, 5*10 blunts
chefs just made a plat, gone and get one
i’m a greedy n*gga, i’m on my 61
i got me a b*tch, and got my d*ck one

- chief keef

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