lirik lagu chopsticks – gun40
[intro: g.u.n.]
ayy, let me hear that ho, jeff
real sh-t, real talk, real money talk
’til that money on the line, i don’t wanna talk
ayy, that’s like more talk, haha, yeah, uh
[chorus: g.u.n.]
cookin’ dog food, chopsticks (chopsticks)
glock on me, i’m blowin’ this b-tch (i’m blowin’ this b-tch)
fell in love ’cause she suck good d-ck (’cause she give good head)
that’s your ho and we just made a fl1ck (we just made a fl1ck)
twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, countin’ up, this sh-t so crazy
countin’ up this sh-t, it’s daily, you know we get to this sh-t daily
we sell cocaine like the 80’s, know that cocaine kick like jet li
d-mn b-tch, you just drive me crazy, godd-mn, b-tch, you talk too much
[verse 1: g.u.n.]
white squares like the brady bunch (the brady bunch)
p-ssy talkin’, know i get you touched (know i get you touched)
n-ggas know i’m crazy, b-tch, i mash the b-tton (mash the b-tton)
n-ggas sharin’ clothes like we ain’t grown as f-ck (grown as f-ck)
man, these n-ggas actin’ like they b-lls just dropped (p-ssy)
p-ssy boy, you actin’ tough, i got somethin’ gon’ sit you down
.223 that ar, please don’t make me, should just settle down
i know this family guy -ss n-gga ain’t tryna go pound for pound
i’m f-ckin’ your fish, giggity giggity
she suckin’ my d-ck, ooh, she filthy
her n-gga called her, know she guilty
i’m runnin’ it up, i made like sixty
[chorus: g.u.n.]
cookin’ dog food, chopsticks (chopsticks)
glock on me, i’m blowin’ this b-tch (i’m blowin’ this b-tch)
fell in love ’cause she suck good d-ck (’cause she give good head)
that’s your ho and we just made a fl1ck (we just made a fl1ck)
twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, countin’ up, this sh-t so crazy
countin’ up this sh-t, it’s daily, you know we get to this sh-t daily
we sell cocaine like the 80’s, know that cocaine kick like jet li
d-mn b-tch, you just drive me crazy, godd-mn, b-tch, you talk too much
[verse 2: warhol.ss]
audemar pink, i’m flooded with diamonds
bustin’ that brick, i’m banc-ck’s finest
feelin’ that cake, i shoot, no tryin’
get in that b-tch, she hooked on phonics
back of that jeep, she want some meat
pour up the p, she pour up the cheap
thirty round drum, that stick for the heat
play with this sh-t, he got hung by the feet
ooh, play with the beat, yeah
i used to play in the street
look at, he just a reflection of me
ooh, these n-ggas food, feast
that b-tch, she bad and bougie, beast
strum like guitar, like a fuji, preach
take out my chopper and aim at his top
beam on a n-gga, he put in a box
fifty-two custom, it’s waitin’ in line
servin’ the dope
ain’t got no money, lil’ p-ssy, you broke
ride with the demons, sayin’, “on folks”
balneciaga, i’m rockin’ the coat, yeah
no more ferragamo, i’m my mama’s son
been gettin’ dope and then everybody run
everybody gon’ get to runnin’, yeah, ooh
[chorus: g.u.n.]
cookin’ dog food, chopsticks (chopsticks)
glock on me, i’m blowin’ this b-tch (i’m blowin’ this b-tch)
fell in love ’cause she suck good d-ck (’cause she give good head)
that’s your ho and we just made a fl1ck (we just made a fl1ck)
twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, countin’ up, this sh-t so crazy
countin’ up this sh-t, it’s daily, you know we get to this sh-t daily
we sell cocaine like the 80’s, know that cocaine kick like jet li
d-mn b-tch, you just drive me crazy, godd-mn, b-tch, you talk too much
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