Off the Chain

lets go, man lets go,lets go,lets go
She the bomb and her head off the chain
when they seen him they found the remains
If its lost tell me who its to blame,
keep the hoes like a pimp with a cane
Know its fake boy you should be ashamed,
stay away i do not fuck with lames
Martin and gina he feeling that pain,
they the same we call them some twain's(Waa)
Two shots we send some initials,
Referee all my niggas official
Like china im shooting these missiles,
i play with her kitty like tickle(Dddd)
Money green and long just like some pickles,
Used to double my cup now its triple(Its triple)
You shooter you don't have no hittas,
your rhymes in your raps we don't feel em
LeBron and dwade we bringing that heat,
So you don't wanna meet(On god)
I could be in prison the case that I beat,
We beat it like meat
When I kill you I'm at the back seat at the funeral,
while I'm looking neat
I got her now something you couldn't keep,
what's up to my folks you know how I greet(GD)
I grab a cup imma see what I drink,
Put him on a hoodie if he wanna link
Bullets at his body drip like some ink,
Imma GD but favorite color pink
Fuck drop my earrings in the sink,
On nation this shit was 800 a piece
Smoking exotic its fruity but stink
,Pull up with so much money like the brinks(LETS GO)
She the bomb and her head off the chain,
when they seen him they found the remains
If its lost tell me who its to blame,
keep the hoes like a pimp with a cane
Know its fake boy you should be ashamed,
stay away i do not fuck with lames
Martin and gina he feeling that pain,
they the same we call them some twain's(Waa)
two shots we send some initials,
referee all my niggas official(On God)
Like china im shooting these missiles,
i play with her kitty like tickle(Dddd)
Money green and long just like some pickles,
used to double my cup now its triple
You shooter you don't have no hittas,
your rhymes in your raps we don't feel em



Credits
Writer(s): Ja’quavious Bardley
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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