Is It Chill If I Chill Here?

Wrap that fucking swisher up don't let it run once it get to burning
Drank too many steel reserves
I'm drunk now but my stomach churning
Bitch I'm out here working and learning
You simply undeserving
Feel the blue light burning my eyes
Pressing keys 'til my fingers hurting
Pussy boy writing poems in his tablet
But what happens when Maggz come and snatch it
Most these mother fuckers got more problems than a math quiz
Word around's I'm the wiz with the hat tricks
No one wanna pay but they all wanna eat
I don't give a fuck about your words on the beat unless I'm feeling it
To be honest I ain't even hearing it
All I hear is make believe I'm steady steering clear of it

Nobody likes me
Only wanna use me
Thought I'd need a limousine
But swapped it for a two seater
Always keep bout two heaters
On me at all times
Need a beat I got you
But I don't fuck with your mediocre rhymes
I'm simply not impressed by punchlines
Give me something real
Give me something I can really fucking feel
I don't wanna hear you squeal like a tire
Making music for the heal is my desire
I'm broke as fuck ain't rocking no designer
I keep it a hunnid I'm not a fan of eyeliner bitch
What's up
What's up
You a pup we the hellhounds niggas simply can't catch up



Credits
Writer(s): Alexander Christian
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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