Chetta - Fortykay lyrics
[Chetta - Fortykay lyrics]
Tell a pussy boy
Pull up, Pull up, Pull up, Pull up, Pull up
Aye breaking bad, Breaking bad homie
Breaking bad homie boy you sad homie
Put a bag in your head homie you a lil homie
Ima Grownie you ain´t gotta know me
You ain´t gotta know me ima show me
Ima have to show you ima have to show you
Let you know me
Pop Three benzos feeling like the shit hoe
Give your bitch the biz tho
Let her sniff the disco im the only rapper
Crack your head like nabisco
Im the only rapper trapping taxing
What it hitting for double back around
Like to see em on the ground
Tell my main to hold it down
Now she ride with the pounds
Four pound on my hip ridding thru dogg pound
You can fucking get these hands
If you want it they come round
Ima dog, Ima dog let your ass fucking see
Ima woof, Ima woof yappa barking up a tree
Pull that choppa out the back
And let that bitch fucking ring
Pull that choppa out the back
And let that bitch fucking sing
Ima heart attack waiting to happen
Like bitch whats happening
Have lil mal go kill your family
I promise it d make me happy
If you see me pussy clap me im clapping back
At you bastards my Glock is a fully plastic
Im plastered passing the package
Ima Walk away walk this way
Walk Walk walk this way
Talking this way
Boy you fucking know you lame
Ain't got time for no games
You gone have to miss me ima
Breaking bad homie get a bag homie
Bitch you sad hoe you make me laugh
Boy you sad why you sad homie
Breaking bad homie break ya back homie
For the bag boy this shit a blast
Choppa dance break ya back homie
Breaking bad homie got a bag on me
All in cash you gone make me blast
Thats your ass choppa dance homie
Breaking bad homie got it bad
You ain’t bad homie
Bouta put a bag on ya head
Break ya back homie
Walk, Walk walk This way
Walk, Walk walk this way
Walk, Walk walk this way
All these pussies make me laugh homie
Tommy in the trunk tell a bitch run it up
Hoes in the game tryna give me that love
I don't need no love
I don't really give a fuck pop another addy
You ain't never adding up dripping sauce
All in your fucking mouth all this clout
And im still up in the south
40K in the booth right now ive been high
Smoking on gorilla glue right now
I got purp on me percs on me
Who gone get this work for me
Tell ya bitch to twerk for me
She gone get this hurt ima dog, Ima dog
But you already know ima woof, Ima woof
Let this bitch fucking go lord Knows
Lord Knows lord Knows
Make a bitch bite down on the floor
Make a bitch bite down on the floor
Let it go
Pull up, Pull up, Pull up, Pull up, Pull up
Aye breaking bad, Breaking bad homie
Breaking bad homie boy you sad homie
Put a bag in your head homie you a lil homie
Ima Grownie you ain´t gotta know me
You ain´t gotta know me ima show me
Ima have to show you ima have to show you
Let you know me
Pop Three benzos feeling like the shit hoe
Give your bitch the biz tho
Let her sniff the disco im the only rapper
Crack your head like nabisco
Im the only rapper trapping taxing
What it hitting for double back around
Like to see em on the ground
Tell my main to hold it down
Now she ride with the pounds
Four pound on my hip ridding thru dogg pound
You can fucking get these hands
If you want it they come round
Ima dog, Ima dog let your ass fucking see
Ima woof, Ima woof yappa barking up a tree
Pull that choppa out the back
And let that bitch fucking ring
Pull that choppa out the back
And let that bitch fucking sing
Ima heart attack waiting to happen
Like bitch whats happening
Have lil mal go kill your family
I promise it d make me happy
If you see me pussy clap me im clapping back
At you bastards my Glock is a fully plastic
Im plastered passing the package
Ima Walk away walk this way
Walk Walk walk this way
Talking this way
Boy you fucking know you lame
Ain't got time for no games
You gone have to miss me ima
Breaking bad homie get a bag homie
Bitch you sad hoe you make me laugh
Boy you sad why you sad homie
Breaking bad homie break ya back homie
For the bag boy this shit a blast
Choppa dance break ya back homie
Breaking bad homie got a bag on me
All in cash you gone make me blast
Thats your ass choppa dance homie
Breaking bad homie got it bad
You ain’t bad homie
Bouta put a bag on ya head
Break ya back homie
Walk, Walk walk This way
Walk, Walk walk this way
Walk, Walk walk this way
All these pussies make me laugh homie
Tommy in the trunk tell a bitch run it up
Hoes in the game tryna give me that love
I don't need no love
I don't really give a fuck pop another addy
You ain't never adding up dripping sauce
All in your fucking mouth all this clout
And im still up in the south
40K in the booth right now ive been high
Smoking on gorilla glue right now
I got purp on me percs on me
Who gone get this work for me
Tell ya bitch to twerk for me
She gone get this hurt ima dog, Ima dog
But you already know ima woof, Ima woof
Let this bitch fucking go lord Knows
Lord Knows lord Knows
Make a bitch bite down on the floor
Make a bitch bite down on the floor
Let it go