a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

going - chuckyy lyrics

[intro]
(yeah, n*gga, f*ck is you talkin’ ’bout, n*gga? you know who’s on the beat)
(wardo, what the h*ll goin’?) on the other side, you know what i’m sayin’?
all life been some sh*t
n*ggas be jumpin’ off the plane, no parachute
n*ggas jump in the water, no life vest
you n*ggas backwards
yeah

[verse]
most of these n*ggas get left on drills and you tryna tell me they k!ll for real? (drills, drills)
and you know chuckyy dog got the wheel, i dump him down, won’t panic still
glock 20 under my belt with a kriss vec’, i wear twenty*eight, i gotta chill
these n*ggas’ life goin’ down the hill, i was chasin’ sh*t down, now rap my career (yeah, yeah)
we move sh*t likе bmf did, we get sh*t dropped all thе way in michigan (yeah, yeah)
f*ck n*gga drop a lo’, bet we push up, bronem spotted one, then we clip ’em (then we clip ’em)
i don’t even rock no more amiri, they think i went devil, but really a christian
b*tch tryna have my baby, you trippin’, i’ma step on hoes, you can’t even kick it (step)
in the trenches, i’m still a regular n*gga, in the tsa, i be walkin’ with a limp and sh*t
bake a n*gga sh*t like a pillsbury biscuit, “why you do that?” ’cause his sh*t got a ticket on it
these n*ggas just be thinkin’ i’m a rapper, i’m probably the n*gga that probably catch your homie (rrr)
step on a n*gga just like a zombie, switch got sick, that b*tch threw up on him (rrr, rrr, rrr, rrr)
workin’ at magic, i’ll probably put a bone in her, for that sh*t, i need me a trophy (no cap)
dunk on a f*ck n*gga just like rozan, how the f*ck you mad ’cause i’m chosen? (no bap)
in a lam’ truck, i’m switchin’ the lane up, tellin’ bugg’s dumb ass, “just scoot over” (no bap)
n*ggas get splattered in the bin like coffee, i was boss and i f*cked on a four piece
the way they post, you would think blogs know me, in the stu’, she tryna f*ck, she blowin’ me
everybody go in the crib in the mornin’, cadillac v truck, sound like we throwin’ it (hrr, hrr)
i just been sat back, plannin’ my tour and sh*t, might jack 200k in the mornin’ (ching)
the way sh*t goin’, when a n*gga get dropped, we gon’ spin back and we gon’ f*ck up the funeral
[outro]
ain’t no f*ckin’ rap bap
n*ggas know how the f*ck we comin’, we ain’t gotta broadcast none of this sh*t
we leave sh*t right there where the f*ckin’ trees grow, dumb*ass lil’ boy

- chuckyy lyrics

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular