Tekst piosenki
Lor Tinka
Yall know wassup
Dis da remix
[Hook]
Chasin niggas
Poppin bitches
Roastin chickens
Yeah, you know thats our lifestyle
Think its the fame
Hop into my lane
Make it a game
We’ll do that shit right now
I hate bitches
Phoney bitches
Whinin sayin what they want
We gonna walk off laughin at her ass
Like hell nahh
Girl you wild
[Verse 1]
Young nigga get ready
We comin in heavy
I got my manz inna kitchen
He gonna get that shit ready
He gotta whip up da mix
Dont wanna fuck up his wrist
Mother actin lor funny
Im like thats what she gets
Man his mothers a cript
Leave that blood on his tip
If someone plays with her baby
Man that lady will trip
Ain’t no way he will slip
Cuz he stay on his shit
Niggas post up on our block
Then we makin ’em skip
People like Tink how thats your block
Why you say thats you shit
Thats where I played hot-cakes, hide-n-seek, and IT’S
Member when we saw that phone
Took his ass in that split
Face beat
Now he can’t get a nice lookin pic
Left his ass right there like he had fell on his shit
Hop scotch
I promise you that you’ll get hopped in this bitch
I got my homeboys ready
They tryin ta hit
They like wassup Lor sis
Juss give me that clip
[Hook]
Chasin niggas
Poppin bitches
Roastin chickens
Yeah, you know thats our lifestyle
Think its the fame
Hop into my lane
Make it a game
We’ll do that shit right now
I hate bitches
Phoney bitches
Whinin sayin what they want
We gonna walk off laughin at her ass
Like hell nahh
Girl you wild
[Verse 2]
When he first turned 12 they told him watch the corner
Holla at Mook
Hit the corner store inna morning
Try ta post up on our BR
Member whos on it
Before it gets late
Cuz you can’t come back when your gone
We throwin fists for Black
Nd poppin bitches for Mom
When we think about Munch
We bust a bullet for Dom
We do this
Pop a nigga
Make it into a song
Ain’t got no lists so Im provin you wrong
My brova said he made me
Cuz Im all about it
He’ll shoot ya
That’s that nigga that said whats the matter
Burned the block wit a 4-th
Had they ass sick
When you saw it You keept you mouth shut like it never happened
Sound like a missle
I made it crumble like powder
My brova got a 4-5th
Keep that gun on his hip
They’ll run in ya whip
Dive off like its ours
They told me they got me
Cuz they know that Im bout it
[Hook]
Chasin niggas
Poppin bitches
Roastin chickens
Yeah, you know thats our lifestyle
Think its the fame
Hop into my lane
Make it a game
We’ll do that shit right now
I hate bitches
Phoney bitches
Whinin sayin what they want
We gonna walk off laughin at her ass
Like hell nahh
Girl you wild
Komentarze (0)