Chetta - Heaven Ain't Free lyrics
[Chetta - Heaven Ain't Free lyrics]
Woe don't want no problem
Pussy see you then I got'em
And my neck hit like some grottos
Popping thirties till she swallow
Pour my lean in baby bottles
Smoking Thrax in Colorado
I ain't sippin' on Moscato
Fifty packs of all Gelatto
Ayo, I ain't stopping
Babygirl, you can't stop him
I don't know why they try him
Gamble with you like Nevada
Send them bricks up in them tires
Fuck y'all snitching like The Wire
I was chilling, now I'm wilding, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah don't he say what he mean?
Yeah, yeah, yeah i got plays, what you need?
Yeah, yeah, yeah forty cal when I sleep
Yeah, yeah, yeah tried to tell 'em I need me
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Bitch, I'm at ya throttle
All my hoes look like some models
Ain't no lying, no denial
I still dog 'em like rottweilers
And that coupe move like a possum
Money stack up like some novels
Cut throat hoe, ya head gone wobble, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I ain't got no time to check no tags
I just drop the bag
Tell ya bitch drop some ass
Woadie, what's the math?
Two Glocks and I add sixty hollow tips
Hit like discs up on ya back
Gucci, Prada, baby
Used to sell dope out the slab
New Balenciagas on my feet
Look like some casts
Heard they looking for me
I'm on the Northside smoking gas
Press 'em like a pedal, let my S4 do the dash
Baby, what's the hamp?
Bitch know I don't care
I walk in the trap and they greet me
"welcome back"
If I fall off guarantee I'm on your ass
Choppa like a toddler or
The taurus never lack baby let me thrash
Flick up like some ash
Ducked off somewhere low
With ya hoe counting cash i go in my bag
Fuck up all these racks
Im just doing me while my opps looking sad
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Pussy see you then I got'em
And my neck hit like some grottos
Popping thirties till she swallow
Pour my lean in baby bottles
Smoking Thrax in Colorado
I ain't sippin' on Moscato
Fifty packs of all Gelatto
Ayo, I ain't stopping
Babygirl, you can't stop him
I don't know why they try him
Gamble with you like Nevada
Send them bricks up in them tires
Fuck y'all snitching like The Wire
I was chilling, now I'm wilding, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah don't he say what he mean?
Yeah, yeah, yeah i got plays, what you need?
Yeah, yeah, yeah forty cal when I sleep
Yeah, yeah, yeah tried to tell 'em I need me
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Bitch, I'm at ya throttle
All my hoes look like some models
Ain't no lying, no denial
I still dog 'em like rottweilers
And that coupe move like a possum
Money stack up like some novels
Cut throat hoe, ya head gone wobble, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I ain't got no time to check no tags
I just drop the bag
Tell ya bitch drop some ass
Woadie, what's the math?
Two Glocks and I add sixty hollow tips
Hit like discs up on ya back
Gucci, Prada, baby
Used to sell dope out the slab
New Balenciagas on my feet
Look like some casts
Heard they looking for me
I'm on the Northside smoking gas
Press 'em like a pedal, let my S4 do the dash
Baby, what's the hamp?
Bitch know I don't care
I walk in the trap and they greet me
"welcome back"
If I fall off guarantee I'm on your ass
Choppa like a toddler or
The taurus never lack baby let me thrash
Flick up like some ash
Ducked off somewhere low
With ya hoe counting cash i go in my bag
Fuck up all these racks
Im just doing me while my opps looking sad
Yeah, yeah, yeah