time machine - r3 da chilliman lyrics
[intro]
(ten11)
(can’t f*ck with baby e)
[chorus]
i let her pour a five in my soda ’cause she ain’t did that before
i got my fire in my hip, in this b*tch and i’ll blow
i’m touchin’ chips, got bankrolls of robberies
check out my wrist, an iced out time machine
let her pour a five in my soda ’cause she ain’t did that before
i got my fire in my hip, in this b*tch and i’ll blow
i’m touchin’ chips, got bankrolls of robberies
check out my wrist, an iced out time machine
[verse 1]
i’m walkin’ with the gucci duffle, n*ggas act dracy
i don’t give a f*ck ’bout no muscle ’cause i’ll spray you
brodie crazy, sittin’ down in the pen’, still tryna score
sh*t a shame, this a five in my soda and i want more
block boy, i done ran up some millions in these jordans
hit gucci, blow thirty thousand dollars, i can afford it
i be splurgin’ this bag, you should see me when i’m in neiman’s
you know i crack stoves and sell ‘bows ’cause i’m a g*nius
[chorus]
i let her pour a five in my soda ’cause she ain’t did that before
i got my fire in my hip, in this b*tch and i’ll blow
i’m touchin’ chips, got bankrolls of robberies
check out my wrist, an iced out time machine
let her pour a five in my soda ’cause she ain’t did that before
i got my fire in my hip, in this b*tch and i’ll blow
i’m touchin’ chips, got bankrolls of robberies
check out my wrist, an iced out time machine
[verse 2]
i bring the diamonds to the room, they look like lightning
tris and a perc’ in my system, now i’m reclinin’
this a thousand dollar soda, that’s how i’m livin’
hop out and flip sh*t with the chop’ like a gymnast
she got ass and it can’t fit up in them jeans
i got masks and i got .40 with a beam
fifty thousand on me, ballin’ like a laker
she know threesie, he be ballin’, touchin’ paper
[chorus]
i let her pour a five in my soda ’cause she ain’t did that before
i got my fire in my hip, in this b*tch and i’ll blow
i’m touchin’ chips, got bankrolls of robberies
check out my wrist, an iced out time machine
let her pour a five in my soda ’cause she ain’t did that before
i got my fire in my hip, in this b*tch and i’ll blow
i’m touchin’ chips, got bankrolls of robberies
check out my wrist, an iced out time machine
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