HURRICANE CHRIS

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C-Lo

1:40

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Sit back, baby, slidin' in the big body
I ain't put my hands on that shit if it ain't
good quality
Better think a few times if you thinkin
bout robbin' me
Rockin' up jeans now, I used to rock Tommy
A lot of shit be lame, don't be shit fun to me
In the section, booted bad, don't be tryin' to touch me

Matter fact
I need top, girl
She tryna f*ck me
Matter fact, I want some head, she call me Chulo Papi
Pockets can't be too low, I'm makin' money roughly
They don't wanna hear the truth, cause they know it's ugly
You know I'm bound to blow, they all gonna love me


Better check where I'm at, I just left the bank
I'm in the booth right now, smokin' on dank
You better pick a side, nigga, better find some rank
Plug just pulled up, he dropped off some drink
I had to get my shit together, had to find my way
Caught my dog, bird down, dropped off some vapes
Gotta get him off, hurry up, like, right today
I'm the freshest nigga in the trap, check my J's


I keep my lawyer close with me, yeah, beat my cases
Yeah, I just checked the bank, had to get a facelift
I told her "Just titties below, yeah, keep it faceless"
I'm keepin' watch, I keep my glock, cause these crips get raided
For the birds, I gotta flock, yeah, I gotta shape shit
I keep the wings with the sauce, yeah, these hoes is naked
Don't put them shroomies in my face, you know I'm finna face em


Only makin' big plays, nigga, no lil' shit
In the kitchen, whippin' bad, almost broke my damn wrist
Spinnin' fast in that bitch, call me Hurricane Chris


I whip my wrist...

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