Tag: Uncle Phil


Lil Tecca – Ransom (Remix) Lyrics




Play this song

[Intro: Lil Tecca]
Turn you to a dancer
Yeah
Internet Money, bitch

[Chorus: Lil Tecca]
I got black, I got white, what you want?
Hop outside a Ghost and hop up in a Phantom
I know I’m ’bout to blow, I ain’t dumb
They try to take my flow, I take they ass for ransom
I know that I’m gone
They see me blowin’ up, now they say they want some
I got two twin Glocks, turn you to a dancer
I see two twin opps, leave ’em on a banner
And I got two thick thots, wanna lick the gang, yeah

[Verse 1: Lil Tecca & Juice WRLD]
I got red, I got blue, what you want?
The Chanel or Balenciaga, Louis and Vuitton
She know I got the Fendi, Prada when I hit Milan
I needed me a die or rider, I need me the one
I started from the bottom, you could see the way I stunt
I want all the diamonds, I want that shit to weigh a ton
The opps, they tryna line me ’cause they hate the place I’m from
But them niggas don’t know me, they just know the place I’m from
I got lots of shawties tryna pull up to my place
But you ain’t want me last year (Uh-huh), so just get up out my face
They all up in my inbox, so I know they want a taste
I know they want my downfall, lil’ nigga, are you laced? (Yeah)

[Chorus: Lil Tecca and Juice WRLD]
I got black, I got white, what you want?
Hop outside a Ghost and hop up in a Phantom (Phantom)
I know I’m ’bout to blow, I ain’t dumb (I ain’t dumb)
They try to take my flow, I take they ass for ransom (For ransom)
I know that I’m gone
They see me blowin’ up, now they say they want some (Want some)
I got two twin Glocks, turn you to a dancer (Dancer)
I see two twin opps, leave ’em on a banner (Oh)
And I got two thick thots, wanna lick the gang, yeah

[Verse 2: Juice WRLD]
I’m in it to win it, I’ma be the best, yes sir
Started from the bottom, I ain’t had no one, yes sir
Had to get big on them niggas, Bruce Banner
Bro split wigs, turn a nigga to a dancer
I got hard, I got soft, whatchu’ want?
Since the day that I’ve been on, they been blowing up my phone
I can’t hear ’em, I got all this loud in my lungs
Thumbin’ through these blue faces while I’m smoking on runts
Uh, I’m in the hills (Ooh, yeah), count them bills (Ooh, yeah)
All baguette diamonds (Ooh, yeah), chandelier give her chills (Yeah)
Feel like yesterday I was just watching Fresh Prince (Uh)
Now the crib look like Bel-Air, R.I.P. to Uncle Phil
Money big, Uncle Phil
Twin Glocks, feelin’ lil’
Niggas hate, Uncle Tom
Spin them off me, carousel
Get ’em off me, go to hell
Silencer, kill ’em soft
Tecca’ll take you for ransom, me I’ll put you in a coffin

[Chorus: Lil Tecca and Juice WRLD]
I got black, I got white, what you want?
Hop outside a Ghost and hop up in a Phantom
I know I’m ’bout to blow, I ain’t dumb
They try to take my flow, I take they ass for ransom
I know that I’m gone
They see me blowin’ up, now they say they want some (Want some)
I got two twin Glocks, turn you to a dancer (Dancer)
I see two twin opps, leave ’em on a banner
And I got two thick thots, wanna lick the gang, yeah




Joyner Lucas & Chris Brown – Stranger Things




[Verse 1: Chris Brown]
Bottles and a bucket full of ice (yeah)
Better make room, vroom hear the Lambo (celebrate)
Bitch better believe that I’ma sniper (yeah)
You know I’m ’bout to take you from your man though (celebrate)
Pop up with the chopper and artificial niggas actin’ like bitches, it done started up a epidemic
It don’t make a difference, nigga, we winnin’, I’m plenty grinnin’
A hundred million platinum, fuck it, you ain’t gotta listen (celebrate)
You better step down to me, feel the dick, bitch, open up your mouth for me
Now choke, talk to the dick honestly
I’m dope, bitch, comin’ like Eenie Meenie Miney Mo (celebrate)
I don’t like when I lose (I don’t), if I don’t buy her them shoes, I don’t like those (regulate)
Do anything that I want to it, think I’m gon’ dance on the moon like Michael (elevate)

[Verse 2: Joyner Lucas & Chris Brown]
While I’m drivin’, I’m moonwalking in the sky
With some shooters, we jump inside of the Buick
You duck and hide from the Rugers
A couple choppers, acoustic and the guitar
When the music, guess I’m alive and I use it
Get stuck inside of the cubics
I never lie but the truth is
I’m fuckin’ tired of these losers
And all my life want the food
When it’s summertime and the juice
But I’d rather die than to lose
It’s a matter of time ‘fore I lose it
And strategize with the movement
Walk in the trap like a boss, ooh
Hoe, you know I’m drippin’ with the sauce, ooh
Pretty with a face full of scars, all they did was build me up
Try to take me apart, they ain’t never wanna (celebrate)
Like you have a label, call the doctor
Heard the chopper make ’em do the macarena
All you niggas sweet as candy
Chocolate chip and I relate to Jolly Ranchers
Stick to bubblegum and watermelon flavored
Get the paper, I’ma (celebrate)
On the corner
Heard you niggas got the juice, but I got Corona
Got a little Spanish bitch, I call her maricona
Joyner Lucas, bitch, I’m hotter than a fuckin’ sauna
Yeah, I make you niggas (elevate)
All you new niggas don’t do it for me, look (woah)
Bitch, I’m the professor, you a student to me, woah
Designer shades on, like you cooler than me, wait (ayy)
All we do is win, you a loser to me
Rappers wanna talk about battle me (Joyner)
You can’t give me neck with a mouth full of cavities
Bunch of lil niggas tried grabbin’ me (grabbin’ me)
Five foot five, boy, you niggas like half of me
You don’t wanna see the other side of me (yeah)
Hard to make ’em happy, all these bitches stay mad at me
I just might take her ’round to Applebee’s (Applebee’s)
Give her long dick and a strawberry daiquiri

[Verse 3: Chris Brown & Joyner Lucas]
Order Cheesecake Factory, bubblin’, why you mumblin’?
Watch you utter, stop stutterin’, what you spend? Let me double it
Lime green ‘rari, two twins, call ’em double mints
If all you pussy niggas my kids are in trouble then
Shut up before I spank you for actin’ up
Now I’m wakin’ up in cabanas ’cause she bad as fuck
And all gorillas don’t want bananas ‘less your chain is tucked
You wiggity-wack with the strap, you cross-criss, make you jump
I criss-cross with the pump, ain’t no bricks in the trunk
Leave that shit for the chumps, I still get what I want
Don’t wanna believe in my mind, but you believe in my dump
I’m takin’ a knee for my side, could give a fuck ’bout they owners
Nigga, look at my eyes, you ’bout to give me my bonus
And every motherfuckin’ record, that’s a hit, I record it (celebrate)
And every motherfuckin’ snitch up in this bitch, they reported (celebrate)
You paid your way for this fade and can’t even afford it
Seventy-five mil’, look at me now (celebrate)
And all these bad bitches can’t keep their feet down (elevate)
You don’t really wanna see Brown
Need to stop all that shit, talkin’ put the seat down
Joyner, I don’t really feel these niggas
Hol’ up, I ain’t gotta pay to kill these niggas
Time is money, need to fuck around and bill these niggas
Vet, so I’m finna good will these niggas (celebrate)
I’ma kill these niggas, I should grill these niggas
Take flex, Fresh Prince, Uncle Phil these niggas
Oh shit, I’m the shit, you could smell me, nigga
Break ribs, yeah, you don’t want no real beef, nigga
I say As-salāmu ʿalaykum when I tear apart some bacon
Hoe, you actin’ like a pig, you fuckin’ filthy, nigga
Now the police tryna lock me in the prison, said I’m guilty
I said da da da da da, come and kill me, nigga

[Verse 4: Joyner Lucas, Chris Brown & Both]
They must have forgot that I’m pyscho (jheeze)
Oh, you want war? Say no more
Turn your fuckin’ block into a light show (Joyner)
You better be sure, better be sure
I’m the realest nigga, that I know
And I’m so bored, I might switch cars
Save a lotta money on Geico (jheeze)
And neighbors knockin’ on my door, what the fuck you want?
Bitch, I’m Irak (jheeze)
Listen, nigga, mind your business
I’m so sick of niggas tellin’ me how I’ve been livin’ my life
Sick of rubbin’ shoulders, now I’m runnin’ over every motherfucker who ain’t wanna get in my ride
I was watchin’, you was shoppin’
Ain’t never had the shit in my side
Now I’m poppin’, I’m poppin’, and your bitch keep hittin’ my line
It’s complicated, fuckin’ up with my main bitch
Givin’ it to the side bitch at the same damn time
Puttin’ my face in it, never wastin’ it
I’ma lay in it, hit it, hit it one more time
And then I’ma proceed and play with the pussy
You know I don’t keep my cape on a hoodie
But I give a Uzi, it’s a doozie, make a movie if you’re actin’, so (celebrate)


Birdman & Young Thug – Lil One


[Intro: Young Thug]
Yeah, yeah
Aye, yeah, yeah
Hey
We got London On Da Track
Thugger

[Hook 1: Young Thug]
Lil’ one
I want to know, how you feelin’ lil’ one (tell me, how you feel)
Tell Lil Thugger, how you feelin’ lil’ one
Hey, I need to know just, how you feel, feel, feel

[Post-Hook 1: Young Thug]
How are you feelin’ lil one, how you feelin’ lil’ one? (I just want you to tell me, I just want you to tell me)
How are you feelin’ lil’ one, how you feelin’ lil’ one (I just want you to tell me, I just want you to tell me)
I wanna know, how you feel lil’ one
Tell me just, how you feel lil’ one
Tell, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, just tell me (tell me)

[Bridge 1: Young Thug]
I just want you to tell me
I just want you to tell me (I’m listenin’)
I just want you to tell me (go ‘head)
I just want you to tell me
I just want you to tell me
I just want you to tell me

[Verse 1: Young Thug]
Yeah, yeah
Go ‘head and tell me, how you feel
Hey, I’m playin’ doctor just like Phil (go ‘head)
I got more syrup than Uncle Phil (ooh)
I’m almost certain that I’ma feel, hey (hey)
Screwed to the max (I’m geeked)
I swear to God, I got that coolie on a mack (graw-graw)
I ran up my bands up, now she act like a brat
She could never be a gnat (no)
I’m not talking ’bout no build
But lil’ mama gotta six pack (woo)
She workin’ on it (she, what?)
She get on top of me and work me, homie
Actin’ childish in this phantom
Lay back the curtains on it
She tryna show ’em, that she ridin’ ’round with me
And they trash, no curby, homie, oh
We might just stroll, we ain’t tryna roll
I just wanna enjoy every second
She can take it slow
I’m like oh, oh, oh, oh whoa
I’m not talkin’ bean
But she keep pigeons on her toes

[Bridge 2: Young Thug]
Aye
Thugger want you to feel it (yeah)
I just want you to feel it (yeah)
I just want you to feel it
Yeah (lil’ one, lil’ one, lil’ one)
Yeah (lil’ one, lil’ one, lil’ one, lil’ one)

[Hook 2: Young Thug]
How you feel lil’ one?
I wanna know just, how you feel lil one
Please, tell Thugger, just, how you feel lil’ one
How you feel, how you feel, how you feelin’?
How you feelin’, how you feelin’, just, how you feel

[Post-Hook 2: Young Thug]
I just want you to feel it
Blood. just want you to feel it
YSL, want you to feel it
Please
Baby girl, I wanna feel it
Please, tell me, I’m feelin’ it
Please, tell me, I’m feelin’ it, yeah

[Verse 2: Young Thug & Birdman]
She not a Crip, but her coupe blue
She not a Blood, but she eat ravioli
Wanna twist yo’ body around, I hope you know yoga
Nigga screamin’, "free Pibb" like I’m giving away soda
I don’t really talk, but I been said, "I told ya"
I’m ridin’ with the yoppa like I come from Magnolia (graw)
I just wanna bang bang like Chief Sosa (bang-bang)
It’s a shame on Stunnaman so, yeah
Tell me, how you feel, nigga
Tell me, how you feel, a nigga
Tell me, how you feel, a nigga, for real
Show you, how we dealin’, nigga
Show you, how we kill a nigga
Show you, how we illy niggas, for real
It’s chop-chop and bang-bang
It’s bang-bang and chop-chop
It’s Blood gang, we kill niggas, for real
It’s chop-chop and bang-bang
It’s Cash Money, it’s Rich Gang, it’s YSL
We kill niggas, for real
I thought I told ya
Born stunnas, we known high rollers
Bang-bang for young soldiers (I just want you to tell me)
Bang-bang for lil’ soldiers

[Outro: Young Thug]
Yeah, yeah
Go ‘head and tell me, how you feel
Hey, I’m playin’ doctor just like Phil (go ‘head)
I got more syrup than Uncle Phil (ooh)
I’m almost certain that imma feel, hey (hey)
Screwed to the max (I’m geeked)
I swear to God, I got that coolie on a mack (graw-graw)
I ran up my bands up, now she act like a brat
She could never be a gnat (no)
I’m not talking ’bout no build
But lil’ mama gotta six pack (woo)
She workin’ on it (she, what?)
She get on top of me and work me, homie
Actin’ childish in this phantom
Lay back the curtains on it
She tryna show ’em, that she ridin’ ’round with me
And they trash, no curby, homie


Nelly – E. I. (The Tipdrill) (feat. St Lunatics) (Uncensored)


Uh.. uh uh uh uh
Uh.. wait a minute now
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Uh, uh..
Can you hear me out there?
Lunatics.. is y’all ready?
Let me hear ya
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I’ma sucka for corn rows and manicured toes (hey)
Fendi capri pants and Parasuco’s (alright)
Passadity ?? city, with one or two throws
I’m droppin ’em outta high school straight into the pros
Who knows? I know!
And I love it when you make your knees touch your elbows
And break it down low to the flo’, and there you go
Now throw it on me slow
And everytime I Bust a rhyme, baby "Gimme Some Mo’"
You say you like that, when I hit it from behind
And I’ll be right back; yeah that’s my very next line
I use it – time after time, when I’m speakin my mind
It’s no matter if I’m shootin game to a pigeon or dime
I ask her, "Who dat is, talkin that shit about the ‘tics?"
Somebody probably jealous cause they bitch got hit
But ain’t nobody else droppin shit like this
Should we apologize? Nah fuck ’em, just leave ’em pissed, HEY!

Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What’s poppin’ tonight?
Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! If the head right, Nelly there ery’night

Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What’s poppin’ tonight?
Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! If the head right, Nelly there ery’night

We can gamble to the break of dawn, nigga
Money long, nigga
Pass up the skirt to talk to the thong, nigga
Some say I’m wrong, but fuck it I’m grown, nigga
If you ain’t bout money then best be gone, nigga
I’m fast (uh) double takes when you walk past me
Nasty, don’t be scared boo, go ‘head and ask me
I drive fastly, call me Jeff Gord-on
In the black SS with the naviga-tion
See the joint blaz-on, somethin smells amaz-on
I got a chick rollin up, half black and asi-an
Another one pidge-on, tellin me to come home
Her husband on vacation and left her home alone
I used the V-12, powers; weight loss, powers
From +Phat Farm+ to +Iceberg Slim+ in one shower
Get a room in Trump Towers just to hit the P hours
Kicked the bitch up out the room cause she used the word ours, HEY!

Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What’s poppin’ tonight?
Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! If the head right, Nelly there ery’night

Aiyyo I smash-mouth a whole ounce, of that sticky
Wash my hands under a gold spout, when feelin icky
Let go off in a ho’s mouth, I ain’t picky
Start frontin when the shows out – whatchu mean?!
Twenty inches when they roll ouuuuuuut – come and get me
Big faces when they fold ouuuuuuut – is you wit me?
Don’t make me pull that fo’-fo’ ouuuuuuut
I keep it closer when the dough ouuuuuuut
Then I slide up in the Escalade
Me and E gettin solid like the Ice Capades
And me and Heezy – frosty, project mo’ wrapped up than Bugsy
You understand me, wrapped wrists like mummies
If you compare me to your local grocery
Then you’ll see I got more carrots/karats than "Aisle D"
More bread than "Aisle G", then bag and scan me
+Sure+ like +Al B.+, meet the ‘tics in Maui, HEY!

Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What’s fuckin’ tonight?
Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! If the head right, Nelly there ery’night

St. Louis y’all, uh, uh
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Uh, can you feel that?
Lunatics y’all, uh, uh
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Uh, uh, Uncle Phil up above y’all, uh, uh
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Yell it universal y’all, uh, uh
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Uh, uh, chillin chillin chillin with the crew y’all

Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What’s poppin’ tonight?
Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! If the head right, Nelly there ery’night


RAE SREMMURD – Real Chill lyrics


They can’t wait until we turn this bitch upside down
They can’t wait until we turn this bitch upside down

My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
And the shit stay chill
My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
And the shit stay chill

My homie the real deal
The big watch on, feel like Ben 10
Hell yeah nigga Slim Jxm
In this motherfucker with a big grip, bitch
Nigga get a grip
I can’t get a grip, man this bitch a flip
Walked in, throwin’ the cash like nerfs
Girl you better put that ass to work
Can a nigga hold the cam like Kirk
Big diamonds on my mouth when I burp
Big rims when I skrt-skrt
Woah, leave my prints in the dirt, yeah
Leave them broke niggas hurt, uh
I’m that nigga, fuck you heard
A young nigga so superb
A cool Herc on the Earth
Swag, yeah
Frank Lucas with a grill
All these hoes wanna chill
Must have seen a nigga skills
Pockets fat, Uncle Phil
Girls on me like Will
All the ladies love jim, for real

My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
And the shit stay chill
My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
And the shit stay chill

They tellin’ me slow down (slow down)
They gave me a chill pill (chill out)
Because I was Spend Ben (Spend Ben)
They know I would Kill Bill (hit him)
I walk round Ben still (ben still)
I’m still on them pills still (jigga-jigga)
I spit that real shit (real)
I call it real spill (real spill)
I need like 10 mil, I need to put my momma in a big crib
She be tellin’ me “baby boy don’t steal”
I ain’t listen to her cause I still steal
One snap in, I put some racks in my grill
No weapons allowed, I brought my strap in here still
All I smoke is loud yeah, it’s gon’ blast in your ear
Man I’m high as the cloud, I’m on a new atmosphere
Gotta hold my niggas down till they get back here
Don’t come over here ’cause you will get clapped here

My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
And the shit stay chill
My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
And the shit stay chill

Spittin’ game to that girl and her friend
I got dressed, left the crib, set the trend
If you ask me, it all spends
I’m from the mud and my cup needs a cleanse (let’s cleanse)
I can’t even cruise because I got a spoiler
Hit the store, buy the store, let’s not loiter (loiter)
Hit the club, need a drink, need a skank (I got it)
The club promoter said “Swae Lee you off of the chain”

My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
And the shit stay chill
My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
And the shit stay chill


Rae Sremmurd – Real Chill lyrics


itemid=”http://www.directlyrics.com/rae-sremmurd-artist.html”>RAE SREMMURD Real Chill lyrics

They can’t wait until we turn this bitch upside down
They can’t wait until we turn this bitch upside down

My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
And the shit stay chill
My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
And the shit stay chill

My homie the real deal
The big watch on, feel like Ben 10
Hell yeah nigga Slim Jxm
In this motherfucker with a big grip, bitch
Nigga get a grip
I can’t get a grip, man this bitch a flip
Walked in, throwin’ the cash like nerfs
Girl you better put that ass to work
Can a nigga hold the cam like Kirk
Big diamonds on my mouth when I burp
Big rims when I skrt-skrt
Woah, leave my prints in the dirt, yeah
Leave them broke niggas hurt, uh
I’m that nigga, fuck you heard
A young nigga so superb
A cool Herc on the Earth
Swag, yeah
Frank Lucas with a grill
All these hoes wanna chill
Must have seen a nigga skills
Pockets fat, Uncle Phil
Girls on me like Will
All the ladies love jim, for real

My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
And the shit stay chill
My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
And the shit stay chill

They tellin’ me slow down (slow down)
They gave me a chill pill (chill out)
Because I was Spend Ben (Spend Ben)
They know I would Kill Bill (hit him)
I walk round Ben still (ben still)
I’m still on them pills still (jigga-jigga)
I spit that real shit (real)
I call it real spill (real spill)
I need like 10 mil, I need to put my momma in a big crib
She be tellin’ me “baby boy don’t steal”
I ain’t listen to her cause I still steal
One snap in, I put some racks in my grill
No weapons allowed, I brought my strap in here still
All I smoke is loud yeah, it’s gon’ blast in your ear
Man I’m high as the cloud, I’m on a new atmosphere
Gotta hold my niggas down till they get back here
Don’t come over here ’cause you will get clapped here

My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
And the shit stay chill
My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
And the shit stay chill

Spittin’ game to that girl and her friend
I got dressed, left the crib, set the trend
If you ask me, it all spends
I’m from the mud and my cup needs a cleanse (let’s cleanse)
I can’t even cruise because I got a spoiler
Hit the store, buy the store, let’s not loiter (loiter)
Hit the club, need a drink, need a skank (I got it)
The club promoter said “Swae Lee you off of the chain”

My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
And the shit stay chill
My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
And the shit stay chill


Rae Sremmurd – Real Chill (feat. Kodak Black)


They can’t wait until we turn this bitch upside down
They can’t wait until we turn this bitch upside down

My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill, kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
Damn, this shit stay chill
My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill, kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
Damn, this shit stay chill

My homie the real deal
The big watch on, feel like Ben 10
Hell yeah nigga Slim Jxm
In this motherfucker with a big grip, bitch
Nigga get a grip
I can’t get a grip made them benji’s flip
Walked in, throwin’ the cash like nerfs
Girl you better put that ass to work
Can a nigga hold the cam like Kurt
Big diamonds on my mouth when I burp
Big rims when I skrt-skrt
Woah, leave my prints in the dirt, yeah
Leave them broke niggas hurt, uh
I’m that nigga, fuck you heard
A young nigga sold some bird
A cool Herc on the Earth
Swag, yeah
Frank Lucas with a grill
All these hoes wanna chill
Musta seen a nigga skills
Pockets fat, Uncle Phil
Girls on me like Will
All the ladies love Jxm
Ay-ay-ay, for real

My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
Damn, this shit stay chill
My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
Damn, this shit stay chill

They tellin’ me slow down (slow down)
They gave me a chill pill (chill out)
Because I was spendin’ (spendin’)
They know I would Kill Bill (hit him)
I walk round with big steel (big steel)
I’m still on them pills still (jigga-jigga)
I spit that real shit (real)
I call it real spill (real spill)
I need like 10 mil
I need to put my momma in a big crib
She be tellin’ me "baby boy don’t steal"
I ain’t listen to her cause I still steal
Went snap in and put some racks in my grill
No weapons allowed, I brought my strap in here still
All I smoke is loud yeah, it’s gon’ blast in your ear
Man I’m high as the kite I’m on a new atmosphere
Gotta hold my niggas down till they get back here
Don’t come over here cause you will get clapped here

My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
Damn, this shit stay chill
My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
Damn, this shit stay chill

Spittin’ game to that girl and her friend
I got dressed, left the crib, set the trend
If you ask me, it all spends
I’m from the mud and my cup needs a cleanse (let’s cleanse)
I can’t even cruise because I got a spoiler
Hit the store, buy the store, let’s not loiter (loiter)
Hit the club, need a drink, need a skank (I got it)
The club promoter said "Swae Lee you off of the chain"

My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
Damn, this shit stay chill
My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
Damn, this shit stay chill