Ballout, Chief Keef - Country lyrics
Chief Keef [Keith Farrelle Cozart] Chicago, Illinois, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Ballout, Chief Keef - Country lyrics]
You might know me from the, dirt
Lil' boy that used to walk the streets
Now I don't say much because talk is cheap
Rifle get to stuttering, it's on repeat
Fuckin' round I got a DUI, for weed
Yoom - That's the sound of
The plane taking off
Foe 'nem can't wait till
Them chains taken off
You can't be lunch meat
We drop them 40's, like we from the country
Bang, bang
Belt cost eight hundred ayy
Forty under it ayy
Bitches chase me down aye, trynna play it ayy
You can blow my candle ayy, Imma stay lit ayy
She say I trynna play her
She feel like Rey bitch ay
I woke up this morning ayy
Feeling really rich ayy everything real ayy
These even the real kicks ayy
Real neck, real wrist
Since I'm a real nigga Imma
Need a real bitch ayy, oK
Bitch I paid a thousand for my denim
Been toting on a couple of some handguns
Bitch I'm feeling like the human Google
I got answers
Cutting all my bitches off, I'm
Just looking for scissors, ayy
That's the sound of my bitches crying
When I break up with them
These niggas baloney
Phoney and I can't fuck with them
All these baby bottles, but
We're not babysitters, ayy
You might know me from the, dirt
Lil' boy that used to walk the streets
Now I don't say much because talk is cheap
Rifle get to stuttering, it's on repeat
Fuckin' round I got a DUI, for weed
Yoom - That's the sound of
The plane taking off
Foe 'nem can't wait till
Them chains taken off
You can't be lunch meat
We drop them 40's, like we from the country
Bang, bang
Ball you know I'm in Neiman Marcus
Valet got my Demon, parked it
Racks hanging out my cargo's (Racks, racks)
I bank with Wells Fargo (Facts)
In the trap just like El Chapo
She want to be my Griselda Blanco (Griselda)
She like "you sound like a country boy"
(Haha) "But you from the city boy" (Chiraq)
She a little saddity boy (thot)
But her face is real pretty boy (Pretty girl)
And her waist is lil' bitty boy
Duffle bag full of cash, no Tity Boi
(All cash)
We good in every city boy (GBE for ever)
Back to back, no Hemi's boy (Skrr, skrr)
You can hear them Hellcats racing
Through the city boy
You might know me from the, dirt
Lil' boy that used to walk the streets
Now I don't say much because talk is cheap
Rifle get to stuttering, it's on repeat
Fuckin' round I got a DUI, for weed
Yoom - That's the sound of
The plane taking off
Foe 'nem can't wait till
Them chains taken off
You can't be lunch meat
We drop them 40's, like we from the country
Bang, bang
Lil' boy that used to walk the streets
Now I don't say much because talk is cheap
Rifle get to stuttering, it's on repeat
Fuckin' round I got a DUI, for weed
Yoom - That's the sound of
The plane taking off
Foe 'nem can't wait till
Them chains taken off
You can't be lunch meat
We drop them 40's, like we from the country
Bang, bang
Belt cost eight hundred ayy
Forty under it ayy
Bitches chase me down aye, trynna play it ayy
You can blow my candle ayy, Imma stay lit ayy
She say I trynna play her
She feel like Rey bitch ay
I woke up this morning ayy
Feeling really rich ayy everything real ayy
These even the real kicks ayy
Real neck, real wrist
Since I'm a real nigga Imma
Need a real bitch ayy, oK
Bitch I paid a thousand for my denim
Been toting on a couple of some handguns
Bitch I'm feeling like the human Google
I got answers
Cutting all my bitches off, I'm
Just looking for scissors, ayy
That's the sound of my bitches crying
When I break up with them
These niggas baloney
Phoney and I can't fuck with them
All these baby bottles, but
We're not babysitters, ayy
You might know me from the, dirt
Lil' boy that used to walk the streets
Now I don't say much because talk is cheap
Rifle get to stuttering, it's on repeat
Fuckin' round I got a DUI, for weed
Yoom - That's the sound of
The plane taking off
Foe 'nem can't wait till
Them chains taken off
You can't be lunch meat
We drop them 40's, like we from the country
Bang, bang
Ball you know I'm in Neiman Marcus
Valet got my Demon, parked it
Racks hanging out my cargo's (Racks, racks)
I bank with Wells Fargo (Facts)
In the trap just like El Chapo
She want to be my Griselda Blanco (Griselda)
She like "you sound like a country boy"
(Haha) "But you from the city boy" (Chiraq)
She a little saddity boy (thot)
But her face is real pretty boy (Pretty girl)
And her waist is lil' bitty boy
Duffle bag full of cash, no Tity Boi
(All cash)
We good in every city boy (GBE for ever)
Back to back, no Hemi's boy (Skrr, skrr)
You can hear them Hellcats racing
Through the city boy
You might know me from the, dirt
Lil' boy that used to walk the streets
Now I don't say much because talk is cheap
Rifle get to stuttering, it's on repeat
Fuckin' round I got a DUI, for weed
Yoom - That's the sound of
The plane taking off
Foe 'nem can't wait till
Them chains taken off
You can't be lunch meat
We drop them 40's, like we from the country
Bang, bang