che off the lot - Remix
Xelmiir
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Lyrics
M-my niggas rockin' that Prada-Prada
You can get killed for a dolla-dolla
Give a fuck what you said, I'm like Rada-Rada
Yeah, and that nigga got popped like a perc
Get put on a tee, now what size is yo shirt?
I'ma get rich, yeah I feel like 50
Brand new bitch, she keep wearing Balenci'
Balenci', Balenci', Balenci', Balenci', Balenci'
, Balenci', Balenci', Balenci', Balenci', Balenci'
I'ma get rich, P Diddy
Bad lil' hoe just give me that kitty
If a nigga get shot, then he lookin' like Ricky (Yeah)
And my niggas gon' level up
I might ride in that Benz or the Tonka truck
Sippin' purple, that icky, that double cup
And my niggas, we made a wave
I said fuck them niggas, they'll die if they play
B-Bitch, I put that on my grave
I'm a smart ass nigga, I ain't failing my grades
Whole lotta lean, yeah, whole lotta Wock
I'm in LA where the sun don't stop
Bitch, I might cop me a drop
Nigga run up, and he, uh, might get popped
Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop
And I swear, niggas not as real as me, man
Real shit, man
Young nigga, blick em
Silly rabbit, you can't trick me
Three Glocks nigga so picky
And I told my niggas I gotta go get 'em
My niggas shoot like Dirk, talkin' Nowitzki
You know my cup too pissy
And look at your bitch, she miss me
I told her to hit it, can't give her no dick 'cause I'm busy
I ain't talkin' no Yeat, yeah that's twizzy
Your bitch said she hot dog, nigga I'll give her the glizzy
Fuck a bitch, talk about Biggie
Lil' twizzy gon' spin on his block like a motherfuckin' fidget
Lil' nigga run, I ain't talking for President
Taliban, bitch we takin' your residence
And I swear my lil' broad, she came from heaven man
Runner gon' blick him, XD gon' hit him
I tote my rocket, the clip, it's gon' dick him
All my attire is Rick and some denim
Look at my whip bitch, the windows are tinted
Don't go and comment and post your opinions
She gon' get slayed, she swear that I'm sinning
We don't cop matching fits but I swear that we twinning
Young nigga, blick em
Silly rabbit, you can't trick me
Three Glocks nigga so picky
And I told my niggas I gotta go get 'em
My niggas shoot like Dirk, talkin' Nowitzki
She ain't had no bread, so I paid for her titties
Texako, my bitches strip in the city
And I walk in the club, I don't got my blicky
I don't got my-
"Man yall needa stop talking down on me man, yeah!"
Bra- Brand new whip gon carry that clip
Yung fly in the back that boy got a uzi
And that boy acting crazy he crazy he crazy
And I slide on yo opp and I slide on yo block
I slide with a choppa I'm feeling like tecca
We fucking that bitch and we up in a tesla
It's call of duty I ride with a vector
And a boy talking crazy we told him lay back
I'm getting richer than yeat
We fucking this bitch like feet
Yeah and bitch im getting that dollar Dollar
Bi-bitch I'm getting that Mac and the uzi
She wearing Balenci
Balenci Balenci Balenci Balenci Balenci Balenci Balenci Balenci
And I'm rocking with che he shooting with uzi
And I'm walking with che he wearing that Gucci
I'm getting that bag and I'm getting that fatty
(Balenci Balenci)
That girl is my muhfuckin baddie
Hehe
"We really up! On God"
I ain't talkin' no Yeat, yeah that's twizzy
Your bitch said she hot dog, nigga I'll give her the glizzy
Fuck a bitch, talkin' 'bout Biggie
Lil' twizzy gon' spin on his block like a motherfuckin' fidget
Lil' nigga run, I ain't talking for President
Taliban, bitch we takin' your residence
And I swear my lil' broad, she came from heaven man
Runner gon' blick him, XD gon' hit him