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lirik lagu hittin gates – r3 da chilliman

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[intro]
(run that back, west)

[chorus: r3 da chilliman]
grammys swingin’ on my neck, but billy bop on me
i was gon’ kick the door, but what’s*his*name knocked for me
can’t politic with the thugs, he don’t partic*p*te
every shoe i ever scuffed came from hittin’ gates
grammys swingin’ on my neck, but billy bop on me
i was gon’ kick the door, but what’s*his*name knocked for me
can’t politic with the thugs, he don’t partic*p*te
every shoe i ever scuffed came from hittin’ gates
[verse 1: r3 da chilliman]
i’m the chilliman, i’m who the b*tches came to see
glock 23, he ain’t get no fade from me
gallery dеpt. jeans with amiri cross the tee
she think i’m from snipеr gang ’cause i got gold all on my t**th
he don’t want smoke with the gang, you know it’s choppers when it’s issues
i been thinkin’ ’bout ling ling all night, i miss you
every shoe i scuffed came from runnin’ from the cops
i’m r3 da great, she know this b stand for block
they like, “them n*ggas got money,” and they be blampin’ all they foreigns
bounce out on an opp, don’t leave me open, i be scorin’
pocket full of salmon, i got a dub in all fifties
they like, “why you still sippin’? you must not care about your kidneys”
i’m crackin’ in my section, so my opps know my name
he can’t have my grammy, i’ma smoke him ’bout this chain
i can’t look up to that n*gga ’cause ain’t no dirt up on his cleats
a cool guy on social media, but he’s not relevant in the streets

[chorus: r3 da chilliman]
grammys swingin’ on my neck, but billy bop on me
i was gon’ kick the door, but what’s*his*name knocked for me
can’t politic with the thugs, he don’t partic*p*te
every shoe i ever scuffed came from hittin’ gates
grammys swingin’ on my neck, but billy bop on me
i was gon’ kick the door, but what’s*his*name knocked for me
can’t politic with the thugs, he don’t partic*p*te
every shoe i ever scuffed came from hittin’ gates
[verse 2: stoneda5th]
i’m in an s550 slidin’ with bl!cky off ’em soul sn*tchers
everybody with me seen way more than fifty, some cold pastors
everybody with me came in with a pistol, hang with regulars
almost crashed a benz sippin’ on lean, should’ve drove passenger
i told god to take the wheel and then i blamped into a challenger
i just popped a perky, suck without stoppin’, i’m tryna challenge her
he said he’ll never get stripped until that boy saw the calendar
none of my enemies in the field, they all turned to a vegetable
i ain’t’ duckin’ smoke, if n*ggas want fades, i’m poppin’ dude
he try to play that tough guy role, gon’ get smoked for his attitude
he claim that he gang, you lookin’ around like, “who vouch for dude?”
n*ggas wanna bang for fame ’til they find out what it come with
n*ggas wanna bang for fame ’til they find out gotta keep guns and sh*t
i hate when n*ggas say they runnin’ the program, lil’ n*gga, you ain’t runnin’ sh*t
he can’t yell out, “shooter gang,” ’cause that n*gga ain’t shootin’ at sh*t
i was in the field takin’ trips before i was at school takin’ field trips

[chorus: r3 da chilliman]
grammys swingin’ on my neck, but billy bop on me
i was gon’ kick the door, but what’s*his*name knocked for me
can’t politic with the thugs, he don’t partic*p*te
every shoe i ever scuffed came from hittin’ gates
grammys swingin’ on my neck, but billy bop on me
i was gon’ kick the door, but what’s*his*name knocked for me
can’t politic with the thugs, he don’t partic*p*te
every shoe i ever scuffed came from hittin’ gates
[outro]
(run that back, west)

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