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chosen - otm lyrics

[intro: duffy]

(slow motion)
(put you in your, ay)
(baby i could put you in your bag just let me show you)
(ayy, know the truth)

[verse 1: duffy]
mud*walkin’ got me movin’ slow motion
i’m tryna change but the devil on my shoulder
baby i could put you in your bag, just let me show you
choosey susie, i know she want me ’cause i’m chosen
bustdown, bustdown, my neck and wrist is hood trophies
do your dance, do your dance
i love the way she throw it on me
scooper in the foreign, she ain’t askin’ where we goin’
need to fit up in this stash, but it don’t really fit this .40
i be wildin’, i keep pourin’ lean up in my double cup
this b*tch with me got a pretty face and plus a bubble b*tt
really young and turned up, that’s why she wanna come with us
when i pop up at the party, bet my gun my plus*one
i’ma slime a n*gga for me, lay him down like baby here
take a trip up out the country
she say it don’t matter where
what’s with all the animosity and hate up in the air?
move like the real mob, yeah, that’s why she love it here
nothing that i fear, a lot of sticks where i be hangin’
brodie can’t believe we made it, so much chip, it’s crazy, ain’t it?
lately i ain’t been really flexin’, just been givin’ motivation
slime with a draco, it’s gon’ give me inspiration (ugh)
[chorus: duffy]
sh*t, you know the truth, it’s nothin’ new
in the black truck with tools, ruler clips like we at school
she bad enough and up in racks, she might could be my boo
i get evil thoughts when i’m sippin’ on this juice
mud*walkin’ got me movin’ slow motion
i’m tryna change but the devil on my shoulder
baby i could put you in your bag, just let me show you
choosey susie, i know she want me ’cause i’m chosen
bustdown, bustdown, my neck and wrist is hood trophies
do your dance do your dance
i love the way she throw it on me
scooper in the foreign, she ain’t askin’ where we goin’
need to fit up in stash but it don’t really fit this .40

[verse 2: blue pesos]
and our foreign things slidin, it’s just me and my lil’ shorty
if we see ’em, drop a dime, make ’em sing like shordie shordie
used to be the .38, now it’s fn’s and .40s
it’s a bustdown, bustdown, i went cartie over rollie
diamonds dancin’, bling*blaw, d*mn, p in your bag
in the coupe with my shooter, told ’em, “flat*line this f*g”
n*gga dumb, thought i was slippin’, told ’em, “try again, brad”
we don’t do the standard weapons, we like extendo’s in our mag
come put it in my hands and we can get that ysl bag
mei*ling and her sister, they get ten straps and head wraps
i ain’t too friendly to these rappers, i don’t give daps
big baller status, so i told her, “get the big one”
you want a n*gga gettin’ it or not, b*tch, pick one
touchdown, touchdown, there go the stove, i’m in the end*zone
hold my wrist up in the air, it’s fruity pebbles like the flintstones
the truth is undisputed, b*tch, we know, we know
[outro]

(music fades)

- otm lyrics

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