We’re live, we’re live, we’re live, we’re live, we’re live
We’re live, we’re live
Bare chattings, but time will tell, you gte me
Bare guessin’ on the machine as well, they know
Fire, man’ll get banged, mm
I love Chris Rich
Listen
We pop champagne in the club ’cause the lifestyle used to be horrid
Up town b#tch in a five star nightgown givin’ me knowledge
Supply down, VVs foreign
Better tuck with your pork’, yeah, my broski’s are blacked on black on my ski like [?]
Skip the bad man, sit on my jewels, I rock them
Blood, these are joker, my n#gg# got them
Tell them young gunners “Come ’round and flex with the goons”
I’ll blast them, I’ll ghost them, top hit on my plate
f#ck fame, on my bruise I’ll chop them, that ain’t a problem
Had enough of Amiri jeans, I still drop them
I won’t call [?] my
Yes, say drip, but I already copped them
She want tug love, come and be with a boss then
Rolls up in a black [?] out of Compton
She hear my tunes on a often
Plane Janes, no bust downs, these on top them
All the bad b#tches play my songs often
I don’t trust, but she know my problems
Baby don’t speak when I plot them
You like gun men? Let’s have fun then, come then
All the bad b#tches play my songs often
Rolls up in a black [?] out of Compton
She hear my tunes on a often
Plane Janes, no bust downs, these on top them
All the bad b#tches play my songs often
I don’t trust, but she know my problems
Baby don’t speak when I plot them
You like gun men? Let’s have fun then, come then
All the bad b#tches play my songs often
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