PULL UP GHOST-CLAN (feat. 2 Chainz)

This Chicago, nigga
Trap-a-holics (Ear Drummers)

Pull up, Ghost-clan
I'm fresh up out the pot, I'm lookin' like a dope man (aye, aye)
Lookin' back out, I got that cocaine
Lil' cousin 19, but he gon' tote my phone, fam (damn son, where'd you find this?)

Fuckin' in Gucci slides
20-O-eight, bitch, I was buyin' them two for fives (two for fives)
You got drank, that's true? Let me buy it
So ain't never no pancake, that shit there gon' get denied (ayy, pussy, real trap shit)

I won't buy it if you can buy it
All this water, I can scuba dive (scuba)
Never sign with illumini-
Big ME, who am I?

My name Chief So super high (Sos' baby)
In the bed where a cougar lie (huh)
She just killed me, homicide
You ain't a top guy, you the other guy

Smell me smokin' on an onion
Nub you up, it's a bunion
Shawty Lo, get done, done
She ask do I want a perc', uh-uh

Fuck that, hoe, show me somethin', somethin'
The girls got me lookin' like Hong Kong
I'ma lil' Asian, you can call me Shang Tsung
(This Chicago, nigga)

Pull up, Ghost-clan
I'm fresh up out the pot, I'm lookin' like a dope man (aye, aye)
Lookin' back out, I got that cocaine
Lil' cousin 19, but he gon' tote my phone, fam
(Like you ain't know)

Pull up, Ghost-clan
I was mindin' my business, she put me in her close friends
Balenciaga winter gloves, I built a snowman
Rolls-Royce truck, lookin' like a tow man

Sent her to the store for rubber bands, I need some more
I don't need a scale, I buy a whole thang just to smoke
Don't try to compare, I'm in a whole 'nother category
Everybody know, my flow is nastier than a lavatory

I'm straight out the laboratory
Pull up, put it back up on me
I'ma put a rack up on it
Get on the track, put facts up on 'em

Know he broke, put a cast up on him
She fell in love with the accent, don't it?
We pullin' up in matchin' Rollies
Uncle Sam, l'm taxin' on 'em, yeah

Pull up, Ghost-clan
I'm fresh up out the pot, I'm lookin' like a dope man (aye, aye)
Lookin' back out, I got that cocaine
Lil' cousin 19, but he gon' tote my phone, fam

Fuckin' in Gucci slides
20-O-eight, bitch, I was buyin' them two for fives (two for fives)
You got drank, that's true? Let me buy it
So ain't never no pancake, that shit there gon' get denied (ayy, pussy)

Yeah, bitches fall in love just to take a picture
Niggas wanna fight, but I got the sticker
Niggas just be talkin', they a bunch of lippers
Niggas drinkin' brown lean, actin' like a sipper

Be careful, 'cause that shit'll probably fuckin' kill you
Paralyzin', numbin', I can't fuckin' feel you
Cut the girls and these niggas comin' out like lizards
Finna head on your block and beat that bitch like SZA

She think that I'm D'Ussé, 'cause I be drinkin' sizzurp
Pull up in that coupe with me and Mike Willy
I just bought a Benz, she 'bout to pop a wheelie
16 and I damn near let a copper kill me
You don't want me, 'cause I got that guapo really

Heavy attention
Heavy, heavy, heavy



Credits
Writer(s): Michael Len Williams, Tauheed Epps, Keith Cozart, Justin Garner, Reginald Raymel Smith
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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