Chad
Lyrics
Yeah, yeah
If I wasn't rapping, baby, I would still be ridin' Mercedes
My new whips look so related, my old bitch was overrated
If you pop that pill, remember, niggas fold like hunnids and fifties
If you on that cup, remember, niggas fold like
When I'm working the Ave., it's ash and fire inside the whip
When I'm done, I'ma pass around the cash, go buy some more
If I hit the lil' gas and crash and die, who down to smoke?
When I'm working the Ave., it's ash and fire inside it (ayy)
Dirty nigga got soul like enzyme
Snuck two pounds on the inside (fuck with it), ayy
Trapping out the Mapco (Mapco), ayy
Serving out the Chevron (Chevron)
Little nigga got caught with the heron
Dog food and a word to my canines
Heard a nigga got popped with the A-Rod (yeah)
Running to the state line (yeah)
I just put a blades on a bulletproof Range, I could cripple Liu Kang, it's on-on
Via that drank, I ain't feeling my face, I ain't feeling no pain, it's on-on
Baby, calm down, lemme deal with that stress on top of your head, yeah
Baby, calm down, can you handle that high? Can you handle yourself? It's on-on
If I wasn't rapping, baby, I would still be ridin' Mercedes
My new whips look so related, my old bitch was overrated
If you pop that pill, remember, niggas fold like hunnids and fifties
If you on that cup, remember, niggas fold like
If they talking about cash wassam, I'm down, they down, let's go
I been moving my stash around 'cause opps is watching
I ain't breaking my back, I'm lac, I'm lax, wassam, it's cool
I been moving my stash around 'cause opps is watching
Yeah, count it up mane, gotta mount it up man, take a look at this shit, it's on-on
Yeah, hop in that drop, gotta kick in that box, put a click on that a stick, it's on-on
Baby, come down, lemme deal with that stress on top of your head, yeah
Baby, come down, can you handle that high? Can you handle yourself? It's on-on
If I wasn't rapping, baby, I would still be ridin' Mercedes
If I wasn't rapping, baby, I would still be ridin' Mercedes
If I wasn't rapping, baby, I would still be ridin' Mercedes
If I wasn't rapping, baby
If I wasn't rapping, baby, I would still be ridin' Mercedes
My new whips look so related, my old bitch was overrated
If you pop that pill, remember, niggas fold like hunnids and fifties
If you on that cup, remember, niggas fold like
You got a gun, what you gon' do?
What you gon' do with it? What you gon' do with it?
What you gon' do with it, bitch?
I'm not worried about that gun, bitch, you will get blown
Writer(s): Isaiah McClain, Kevin Adams
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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