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 #

letra de cheffin up - dj charlie b & da crook

[intro]
(easy)
yeah
they don’t even know
for real
free my bros
huh?
yeah

[chorus]
i said, them hollow tips sizzle skin just like bacon, n-gga (brrt)
i could say i’m cheffin’ up way i’m bakin’ n-ggas (what?)
better pray i get this money or i’m takin’ n-ggas’ (give me)
run up in that bomboclaat like jamaican n-ggas (what the bomboclaat?)
[verse 1]
five-seven flip a motherf-cker, i just press the trigger (blaow)
yeah, i know he got a gun, mine’s a little bigger (huh?)
grandma dragged my ass to church, i still turned out a sinner (what the f-ck?)
police dragged my ass to jail, i still turned out a winner (let’s go)
heart colder than thе winter, i can’t love her, i just bеnd her (i can’t)
’cause she ain’t love my ass back when them cold trays was for dinner (she ain’t)
bet she would bounce so quick if all my pockets them got thinner (she would)
so the only thing i give is what i’m puttin’ in her
switchin’ gears in the fast lane, speedin’ up (skrrt)
hundred fifty thou’ in jewelry, got my opps teamin’ up (bling)
tell ’em try your luck, all my shooters got the meanest touch (woah)
knock ’em down, stand over ’em, tell scotty, “beam ’em up” (brrt)
mops gon’ clean ’em up, i ain’t gotta talk, they see me shinin’ (they see me shinin’)
i just blew your stash on new diamonds (yeah)
all my n-ggas up, i ain’t tryna talk, n-ggas stay hidin’
i’ma get this bag and then find ’em
yeah

[chorus]
them hollow tips sizzle skin just like bacon, n-gga
i could say i’m cheffin’ up way i’m bakin’ n-ggas
better pray i get this money or i’m takin’ n-ggas’
run up in that bomboclaat like jamaican n-ggas
them hollow tips sizzle skin just like bacon, n-gga
i could say i’m cheffin’ up way i’m bakin’ n-ggas
better pray i get this money or i’m takin’ n-ggas’
run up in that bomboclaat like jamaican n-ggas
[verse 2]
if you broke and you hatin’, you a fan, you are not an opp
big bro up a milli’, still hop out and shake a n-gga block (buh, buh, buh, buh)
they know who got the city hot, they diss, then we fan it
switch go— put your homie on a panic (brrt)
yeah, my money fast, but i whip my foreigns in slow motion (skrrt, skrrt)
neck on sub-zero, my wrist glowing (bling)
b-tton on the back, one cl!ck, pipe blowin’ (grrt)
moisturize a n-gga whole sh-t like lotion (huh?)
gettin’ money is my specialty (specialty)
young, but i was old here in these streets, ain’t talkin’ sesame (sesame)
wasn’t always lit, i had to go and find a recipe (recipe)
had to cut some ties, it’s only real ones standing next to me (huh?)
it’s gang until the death of me

[outro]
you know we across the board, right?
chess, not checkers
charlie b
da crook
we always cheffin’ up

- dj charlie b da crook

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS