CHIT CHAT

Yuh
Call me Abe cause I ain't Lincoln with none you hoes
That's for damn sure
Yuh yuh yuh yuh

Don't got time for this bitch, don't got time for that
Don't got time for typing up on the chit chat
Hallow tips to your head, make that shit splat
Pull up big glock, yeah this a big gat

After we pop out, Yeah yeah you know it's time to bounce
Pull up to the club, just flipped a couple ounce
Hold up little boy, I got something to announce
Shot at yo crew, don't want guess the body amount
Killing left and right, think I need to make a statement
Chase her down the stairs, feel like I'm Patrick Bateman
Nut up on her face, that shit is hot, she call me Satan
That BBC be shooting, not talking Kate Peyton

I give a fuck then I'm fucking her mouth
Flipping her round then I'm dicking her down
Lost my number well bitch I'm around
Shoot you in the nose, red hole, you a clown
I get bitches, in the pussy I drown
Think your girl want me cause she like my sound
Feds after me bitch I'm skipping town
Gonna make it with the skill I just found

Don't got time for this bitch, don't got time for that
Don't got time for typing up on the chit chat
Hallow tips to your head, make that shit splat
Pull up big glock, yeah this a big gat

I run it up then I'm shooting your head
I run it up when I'm shooting you're dead
I flip a pack then I'm getting that bread
Sunday morning, feeling like Crack-shed

I run it up then I'm shooting your head
I run it up when I'm shooting you're dead
I flip a pack then I'm getting that bread
Sunday morning, feeling like Crack-shed



Credits
Writer(s): David Debuf
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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