Fresh Songtext
von Chuck Strangers
Fresh Songtext
Ah, what′s good my nigga?
I fucked your bitch, what up, what up?
Yeah I got fifty on it
Ah, you ain't talking ′bout shit
Ah, peep - ah, fuck you nigga
Y'all ain't talking ′bout shit, ah
Yeah I feel it, I feel it
Yeah, uh
I′m thinking father, you see kings
I need a crib and something that's old, sitting on rims
It′s quiet for that Metro card
God if I could straight four, five, six
We could all get rich
Straight OD-ing, Flatbush
But my last bitch is OC-ing
They like "Chuck why is you leaving?"
Life's a gamble bro, I′m tryna break even
Dodge heathens, 'cause nowadays, homies be scheming
Just chose a right team and
The power rules cyphers, stay pulling all-nighters
And these niggas not fire
Like a blunt with no lighter
I be the main supplier
They thought the crib was on Blue Hill Ave
The way he got bass like that
Chucky bust crazy dope moves
They tryna tell me that I lose
Screaming "Fuck some winners!", I rap for niggas that′s losing
Down on Ocean cruising
Where dealers gone deal, and users keep using
I wrote this on my born-day
21 with no court dates
We was posted up, watching Price Is Right
When my life was wrong
Two hits from the bong - and my fucks go gone
And my rhyme game strong, nigga
Yeah
I hit the bong cypher now, gawd
That's when I get anti-social
Curve them fake fucks, just like I'm supposed to
Can′t believe he had the nerve to approach you
I was posted up with shorty hard
Motherfuck some business cards
Nigga learn some etiquette
Left toked, then came up with some better shit
Kids from down bottom, how ironic they on top
While niggas was dick-riding and fucking name-dropping
I sent your bitch out with a list, to do some shopping
She got the DiGiorno, but she added extra toppings
And she added extra sloppin′s
Gave me head while I done dropped it
I'm like "you a fool, stop it"
If I could just chill, vibe and meditate
I get my mind strong enough to make a fucking fat bitch levitate
That′s Mayweather strong
Niggas hate that he on
Sun shining on this dawg's ass
Woah, Chuck, pause that, they ′gon think you comment on videos
That's from a movie, you silly hoes
I fucked your bitch, what up, what up?
Yeah I got fifty on it
Ah, you ain't talking ′bout shit
Ah, peep - ah, fuck you nigga
Y'all ain't talking ′bout shit, ah
Yeah I feel it, I feel it
Yeah, uh
I′m thinking father, you see kings
I need a crib and something that's old, sitting on rims
It′s quiet for that Metro card
God if I could straight four, five, six
We could all get rich
Straight OD-ing, Flatbush
But my last bitch is OC-ing
They like "Chuck why is you leaving?"
Life's a gamble bro, I′m tryna break even
Dodge heathens, 'cause nowadays, homies be scheming
Just chose a right team and
The power rules cyphers, stay pulling all-nighters
And these niggas not fire
Like a blunt with no lighter
I be the main supplier
They thought the crib was on Blue Hill Ave
The way he got bass like that
Chucky bust crazy dope moves
They tryna tell me that I lose
Screaming "Fuck some winners!", I rap for niggas that′s losing
Down on Ocean cruising
Where dealers gone deal, and users keep using
I wrote this on my born-day
21 with no court dates
We was posted up, watching Price Is Right
When my life was wrong
Two hits from the bong - and my fucks go gone
And my rhyme game strong, nigga
Yeah
I hit the bong cypher now, gawd
That's when I get anti-social
Curve them fake fucks, just like I'm supposed to
Can′t believe he had the nerve to approach you
I was posted up with shorty hard
Motherfuck some business cards
Nigga learn some etiquette
Left toked, then came up with some better shit
Kids from down bottom, how ironic they on top
While niggas was dick-riding and fucking name-dropping
I sent your bitch out with a list, to do some shopping
She got the DiGiorno, but she added extra toppings
And she added extra sloppin′s
Gave me head while I done dropped it
I'm like "you a fool, stop it"
If I could just chill, vibe and meditate
I get my mind strong enough to make a fucking fat bitch levitate
That′s Mayweather strong
Niggas hate that he on
Sun shining on this dawg's ass
Woah, Chuck, pause that, they ′gon think you comment on videos
That's from a movie, you silly hoes
Writer(s): Kelvin Mcconnell, Antonio Randolph Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com