Blueface's lyrics offer a braggadocious reflection on his identity and lifestyle, navigating the challenges and complexities of fame intertwined with gang affiliation. By contrasting his status as a "famous Crip," he emphasizes the duality of being both a celebrated artist and a member of a notorious gang. The recurring line "turn a concert to a Chippendales" symbolizes the transformation of his performances into high-energy, unpredictable events. The imagery of "taco shells" and orchestrating violence underscores the street and performance aspects of his persona, blending bravado with aggression. He often alludes to his disdain for traditional norms, representing a life lived on his own terms. His assertive tone and vivid descriptions encapsulate the fusion of music and lifestyle, offering insight into the persona he presents to the world. #FamousCrip #Blueface
Famous Cryp
Lyrics
Blueface, baby
Yeah, aight
Ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh
(LowTheGreat)
Look
Fuck a squarebob, baby, I'm a famous Crip (scoop)
It get tricky, I turn a concert to a Chippendales (to a Chippendales)
Niggas want beef so I had to bring the taco shells (where's the beef?)
Pop the trunk, man, that's more shots than ticket sales (yeah aight)
Fuck a squarebob, baby, I'm a famous Crip (scoop)
It get tricky, I turn a concert to a Chippendales (to a Chippendales)
Niggas want beef so I had to bring the taco shells (where's the beef?)
Pop the trunk, man, that's more shots than ticket sales (yeah aight)
Pop the trunk and pull out somethin' with a kickstand (with a kickstand)
I give 'em a drumroll like I'm playing in the marching band (in the marching band)
I get on stage and get to orchestrating a choir (on the dead locs)
20K followers, eighty likes, you's a liar (stop playin')
Pay me in checks, like Nike, baby, I just do it (just do it)
I'm a famous Crip, If I pulled up then she blew it (scoop)
Keep a harpoon for a hater 'cause he can't stand it (can't stand it)
Up the forty, bet his ass get to dancin' (get to dancin')
Shoot first, ask second, can't take no chances (no chances)
.223 leave him where I meet him, in pieces (yeah aight)
These niggas been rappin' they whole life, I just do this on the weekend (on the weekend)
Fuckin' and suckin', my status got her freakin' (freakin')
She tellin' me I'm the next big thing (shut the fuck up)
Bitch, shut the fuck up and take this big thing (big thing)
Call me Curry with the thirty, bet I won't miss him (yeah aight)
Crossover, had to pull up off my dribble (fuck my dribble)
Three-piecer, now he eatin' with the Colonel (with the Colonel)
It's been regular, baby, but it's not normal (it's not normal)
She want a famous Crip, she don't want no worker (scoop)
She love a nigga aggressive and disrespectful (disrespectful)
I tell her when to shut the fuck up and lick testicles (yeah aight)
Yeah aight, bitch, don't forget the vegetables (lick them balls)
It's only time for sexual in my schedule (in my schedule)
Stop playin', yeah aight
Fuck a squarebob, baby, I'm a famous Crip (scoop)
It get tricky, I turn a concert to a Chippendales (to a Chippendales)
Niggas want beef so I had to bring the taco shells (where's the beef?)
Pop the trunk, man, that's more shots than ticket sales (yeah aight)
Fuck a squarebob, baby, I'm a famous Crip (scoop)
It get tricky, I turn a concert to a Chippendales (to a Chippendales)
Niggas want beef so I had to bring the taco shells (where's the beef?)
Pop the trunk, man, that's more shots than ticket sales (yeah aight)
Writer(s): Deangelo Darby Dds Smith, Jonathan Porter
Copyright(s): Lyrics © The Administration MP, Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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