Lyrics:
chicken's throwin lickings comin from the mental
No shame in my game, I'm aimin for your fuckin temple
And plus I'm comin equipped with the mad styles
it down like a wreckin' ball
Role call where my niggas that's one for all
And all for one, we draw the guns on impulse
Cash in the envelope, spend
Who you trust
Who you trust
Who you trust
Me and cuz riding in the Regal
Coppers on the tail like don't let em see you
Run Forrest
Run Forrest
Call
You got people up in your face
Judgin' you by the cash or the place you live
Ain't that sad
Around here it don't phase us a bit
Honestly we don't give
my crills fresh to sell
Buy some paper for the whip so we can make some getwells
Put my foot in the mixture made my own recipe
Fried chicken jays bring
Living in a space age raceway ay
Black papers and the flowers
Space wasting it for hours
Tastes amazing but it's sour
Living in a space age raceway ay
a chicken head
'For I wild the FUCK OUT like the Grateful Dead HA
This wild style must run in my genes
Because my sister's in the county
And my
Clamshells
Damsels in distress, I pull on your dress
Shoulda kept ho-ing, now your dough low, you lookin' stressed
Me I'm cash flowing, cash money
So be
back
Killing these niggas in all black
Look at these bitches, tryna broadcast
Bad, it's two, it's not even nobody bad as you (oh yeah)
Come on,
from the back back
Pull up mask on all black black
Looking like Miss Mary Matt Matt
4 sticks on me like a hashtag
You want it I got it I keep me some
to get me a hole-in-one to remind me of life when I go off
Homocidal thoughts, bodies outlined in chalk by the time it's dark
Dahmer signing his name
making love
And I gave her greatest bruv,
But today gotta break it off
Cose this is making of the
Green johnnies in my black wallet
Faded inbetween
mention
When your mama told you stay away from the gang, you shoulda listen (ayy)
When I wake up in the mornin', all I'm thinkin' 'bout is chicken
Wack
And a baby who lays in a gold carriage
Now I can't leave, if I do she gets half (not the cash)
Oh yes, the whole damn bags of money
So I chill and act so
Yeah got the flames in her hair like Johnny Test
Moon walking dancing around like she was Michael Jack
Yeah she pull up to the scene so you know the rest
in a while so I wanna make sure
Somewhere in this chicken scratch I
Scribble and doodle enough rhymes
To maybe try to help get
Some people through
Yeah
Yeah
Just like bums, we used to stay
In the slums of LA, by the way
Gang-bangers killin' each other for reps
Sellin' rock cocaine on my
his Cash Money piece
Told him I want it all, he said, "Even my gold teeth?"
I caught Blackstreet on a back street in a black Jeep
One at a time, get
get better in time
Remember Black will pull up and chop it up when he had time
That time you slid I had you shocked ain't know I knew how to rhyme
Them
it's on my heart I'ma say that
It was me Bailey and J Black
Plotting on Raris and Maybachs
Now I'm bout to jump on the 880
Cause' I got a bitch in
Knockin' Lenny Kravitz in the 550, ride by slow
Couple my bitches slide down poles
That Ace of Diamonds, King of Diamonds stadium now we at Onyx
I see
flooded with cash
Ima blow a few hundred
Get a house out in London
Then ima go put the rest in the stash
Yah
You all better remember the name
Trippy that
to the Beatles
Johnny Cash to The Beaters
Put it all up in the pot and
That's what's coming through your speakers
I'm trying to be a legend
They tell me it'll come
why i'm in my bag
Headies coming back to back this shit gone put em on they ass
My bitch mad at me but i'm focused on this cash
Yea and i'm focused
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