lirikcinta.com
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 #

tape wit chicken - sme taxfree lyrics

Loading...

[intro]
yeah
i’ve been*i’ve been standin’ on they neck, n*gga
(ooh, sh*t, you ain’t got no grabba?)
like, like*like n*ggas can’t f*ck with me, n*gga
i’m everywhere
i know they hate this sh*t
huh

[chorus]
huh, bro, these n*ggas can’t sit or they can’t f*ck with me
in my crib out in houston wrappin’ up a buck*fifty
gettin’ requests from my fans, they like, “do a tape with chicken”
they know when we lock in, me and brother ain’t missin’
huh, scrollin’ on the ‘gram, she from st. louis, ooh, this b*tch a vixen
she say, “they play you down here, do a show, boy, you tripping”
if they come with five g’s, then i’m gon’ complete the mission

[verse]
interview, interview, been doing interviews
they like, “what up with deadend? is y’all still cool?”
askin’ ’bout jp and big frank too
i said they puttin’ on, n*gga, like they ‘posed to
in the yam and i’m with lo sheen
don’t wreckin’ traffic in the mill, still got the lowest ticket
i ain’t gotta be there, i’ma catch it
fat ass probably think i’m off his ass, brodie, i’ma still stretch it
brodie got the fetty pills and they dumpin’
i really wrecked it up, did this sh*t from nothin’
twenty g’s in these ‘miris, pockets lumpin’, huh
lean and ball might fall, humpty dumpty (hmm)
you ain’t gotta like me, but you gon’ respect me
gucci raincoat, can’t let the rain wet me
i need a deal with sprite, all these sprites i’ve been pourin’ up, i’ll never drink a pepsi
boy, this purple*white, you sippin’ all that relish
hot amiris back to back but i used to wear [?]
told her cook for me naked, lil’ b*tch, that’s my fetish
knock a vic’, knock a vic’, now my pockets full of lettuce
that’s your b*tch? i’d steal her, n*gga, like jerome bettis
with the red like spaghetti
how i block a b*tch quick, ask ducky, know i’m petty
a bulletproof tahoe the only way i’m buyin’ a f*ckin’ chevy
n*ggas need a band*aid, they pockets hurtin’ on [?] (huh)
[chorus]
huh, bro, these n*ggas can’t sit or they can’t f*ck with me
in my crib out in houston wrappin’ up a buck*fifty
gettin’ requests from my fans, they like, “do a tape with chicken”
they know when we lock in, me and brother ain’t missin’
huh, scrollin’ on the ‘gram, she from st. louis, ooh, this b*tch a vixen
huh, she say, “they play you down here, do a show, boy, you tripping”
if they come with five g’s, then i’m gon’ complete the mission

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular

Loading...