letra de chit chat - jay5ive
[intro: smooky margielaa]
i ain’t even with that chit-chat (woo)
forty chains on my neck, milli’ where my wrist at
couple goons with the tool (ha), when we pull up, get back (huh, ayo, double, you—)
got a lame n-gga callin’ (huh), ’cause he want his b-tch back (woo)
d-mn (brr, jondior)
run up on, i’ma give it right back (woo, brr)
three foreigns parked up, boy, you can’t afford that (baow)
got some boomin’, in margiela’s, five racks plus tax (yeah)
fake n-ggas always lookin’, why they get they movin’ like that? (yeah)
[chorus: jay5ive & dusty locane]
pull up on his b-tch and drop a check, won’t get his b-tch back
we was shootin’ n-ggas, that was way before the diss tracks
any spot i walk in, got me askin’, “where the grip at?”
eli caught a shot and i ain’t never seen him get back
loafin’ on them blocks, that ain’t my body, n-ggas wish that
on that block with jack, don’t gotta tell him who to fl!ck at
walkin’ right through harlem, got me lookin’ like, “where blitz at?”
they know i’m the jet, but steady askin’ where my ‘rips at (ayo, double, you—)
[verse 1: jay5ive]
thooties in the spot, they steady askin’, “where the l!cks at?”
brodie want a friend, he keep on askin’, “where the mish at?”
she know we the littest in the party, that’s a big fact
off-off the casamigos, i’ma break her like a kit-kat
if she try to line me last, then she gon’ hear the cl!ck-clack
dusty wanna spin, he keep on askin’, “where the whip at?” (what’s crackin’, 5ive?)
always up the score so i won’t have to take a trip back
always shootin’ first so i won’t never have to flip back
[verse 2: dusty locane]
(fah) g gon’ make a movie, know this chopper got a kickback (fah)
shotty to his body, on his grave where we p-ss at (we p-ss at)
yo, jay5ive, pass the knocks, i’ma spliff that (we spliff that)
bro got the lo’ on the opps, tell him pin that (pin that sh-t)
we can’t go without the pole in this party
shorty wanna run on the crip, where the bl!ck at? (fah)
pass it to the brodie, know we all gon’ bl!ck that (she with us)
he a p-ssy, he ain’t never get his l!ck back
watch for the d’s, know they lookin’ for me (for me)
still f-ck the opps, he got put on a tee (grr, grr)
i can’t go, i’m in love with my g (with my g)
hope you got pole when you run into me (why you runnin’?)
i’m a savage, i stay with my nina (fah)
hit the switch, tell them k!llers to dump out the v
[bridge: dusty locane]
fah, fah
flu gang, flu gang
[chorus: jay5ive]
pull up on his b-tch and drop a check, won’t get his b-tch back
we was shootin’ n-ggas, that was way before the diss tracks
any spot i walk in, got me askin’, “where the grip at?”
eli caught a shot and i ain’t never seen him get back
loafin’ on them blocks, that ain’t my body, n-ggas wish that
on that block with jack, don’t gotta tell him who to fl!ck at
walkin’ right through harlem, got me lookin’ like, “where blitz at?”
they know i’m the jet, but steady askin’ where my ‘rips at (ayo, double, you—)
[verse 3: jay5ive]
d’s be on my bop, i’m tryna troop in with my gun
but they know how i get and they know i don’t go for nothin’
and i ain’t never been the type to take it on a jump
two poles be on my body, if he play, i throw a ton
catch a pack and play it cool, no need for goin’ on a run
this xd get to fl!ckin’, this sh-t soundin’ like a drum
and she keep tryna throw her p-ssy, she just wanna rump
but i just want an opp who gotta line him, are you dumb?
and we was on that block, yeah, we was purgin’ tryna creep up
grinchin’ like if i don’t got a dollar for the re-up
shoe box in my closet, mama think it’s for the sneakers
but this is just another place where i can put the heater
and brodie said he f-cked, so, yeah, i’m knowin’ she a treesha
and n-ggas, they be savin’, throwin’ show up for a skeezer
i never loved a b-tch, i ran a bag up, i ain’t need one
two guns’ll get to fl!ckin’ on this block, this sh-t a threesome
i know i got some demons, but do sh-t up on my doley
and they wasn’t around when we was hoppin’ out them stolies
two deep, was on that block when i was fl!ckin’ with my codey
i ain’t never give a f-ck, n-gga, i’ll up it on his brodie
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