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CHROME BERETTA
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Yung Kage
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(AV with that drip, ho) Lil' boy better step up Been had the sauce, so you n***as better catch up Stay with the strap, yeah, we hittin' from the chest up Six deep with the gang on the low in a Tesla All black with a chrome Beretta Took his flow and I'm doin' it better In the cut, ain't no matter the weather Talkin' sh*t and I'm clutchin' the lever Yeah, pull out the choppa, it makin' him hiccup I get me a shiver, she suckin' my d**k up He talkin' that sh*t but he wishin' ran up Callin' up leg 'cause I need that Beretta (Uh) Six deep, pull up with the pressure If lil' boy step up, he leave in a stretcher All black with interior leather Calm down, don't f**k with a killer You-you-you n***as is less, my n***as is greater Gave her the tip, lil' shawty a waiter Ballin' out like I play for the Lakers On a roll, b*t*h, I feel like a skater She wanted d**k, so I told her I'd cater Had to snap, b*t*h, I feel like a gator Had to snap couple rounds out the Glock Run up on me and I'm airin' the block Run up on me, you get shot in yo' face (Yeah) Draggin' the body all over the state (Yeah) Just like some alcohol, you gettin' chased (Ayy) Hop out the Benz, I hop in a wraith (Grra) Put on a techno beat, shawty she feelin' me (Yeah, yeah, yeah) Blowin' her back to the beat of the ba** (B*t*h) Kickin' her out, like I need space (B*t*h) After she gone, the number erased Gang, gang, gang, gang, yeah, I'm a killa (Killa) Gang, gang, gang, gang, I go gorillas (Gorillas) Gang, gang, gang, gang, yeah, it's a thrilla (Thrilla) Gang, gang, gang, gang, a Caterpillar I keep the MAC on me, b*t*hes call me Steve Jobs (Grra) This loud pack got me higher than them Greek gods I'm on the southside, shooters got them dead eyes We be stackin' bread high, we yo' f**king demise Said I be riding f**kin' dirty, got these b*t*hes on my d**k (Got these b*t*hes on my d**k) What the f**k? What the f**k? What the f**k it really is They be talkin', "1nonly, how the f**k you get so big?" (Ayy, ayy, ayy) It's all the money I be making, holy f**k, I'm getting rich Let's get it I be in the whip dirty tinted, admit it (He's on fire) You be countin' pennies, I be countin' all these digits (Ayy, ayy, ayy) Rick up on my feet, "So c**t," how it's written Hold up wait a minute (Ayy, ayy, ayy) I said, "Hold up wait a minute" I'm yo' b*t*h MCM that's why I got it on my back I got two .45s, got two bad dimes If you want that beef (Ayy), better bring it out the back Like, holy sh*t, like, holy f**k, I'm high as f**k, I can't relax I got this money, got this money steady coming by the stack, lil' b*t*h Glock, a bust down Thot, she bust down Hot, I f**k now Stop, I nut now Watch the f**k out Knock, I'm up now Shot, the bums down Rock, I'm punk now, yeah Milly rock, shine like I'm Johnny Dang, Dang, Dang Silly watch, I don't need a thing but a gang chain Iggy Pop with the punk rock, you a damn lame 55, but I run a hundred on the high way See that Wocky got you loose Say it to ya face and then I say it in the booth Hey, huh, what? F**k you b*t*hes, I'm the truth B*t*h, I'm getting brain from ya main baby boo (Yuh, f**k you too)
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