Chief Keef - Obama lyrics

Fuck you lookin at aye! guy mumbles
You think I'm fucking crazy
Aye! The fuck! You know what
I'm sayin' sosa's on the
Motherfucking beat now! Fucking with the
Fucking I8 driving through the
Fucking streets just tryna carry my
Fucking shit down the
Motherfucking ship! You know
What I'm sayin'
Don't be fucking callin' your
Homeboys i'm just one fucking gangster
Against all you mother
Fuckers! Come on! The fuck is
Up? You know what I'm
Sayin' t up mother fucker! Step
Ya fucking game up!

Sosa since you got this money, you disappear
That how you feel
In the muthafucking hood, it's
Ain't how you steal, it's how you kill
Now I'm rich bitch, it ain't how you feel
It's how you live
And I'm on some big shit
It ain't what you was, it's how you is
When I come have your 3D glasses in
And have your ears before my son grow older
I'ma tell ya hide ya kids
I smoke doja, you smoke Folgers
Flame it up and now you're dizzy hit Obama
Told him I'ma pick him up
And he said "really?"

On some street shit
Come and get you in a Hemi
On some rich shit, pick you up in a Bentley
I'm riding stock paint
And my shit still look like candy
All these tools on me
Man I look like Handy Manny
Nigga I'm an astronaut, Nigga you's a Sandy
You ain't never jump out the water
You use to swimming
That mean you never jumped out the porch
No types of sports i got my own shit
I don't need no type of source me and guap
We be kicking it in all types of sorts
Hit the Louis store
And I buy all types of shorts
Don't let me in the NBA
We knock it off the shore
Bump me my muthafucking pistol
Knock you off the court

Sosa since you got this money, you disappear
That how you feel
In the muthafucking hood, it's
Ain't how you steal, it's how you kill
Now I'm rich bitch, it ain't how you feel
It's how you live
And I'm on some big shit
It ain't what you was, it's how you is
When I come have your 3D glasses in
And have your ears before my son grow older
I'ma tell ya hide ya kids
I smoke doja, you smoke Folgers
Flame it up and now you're dizzy hit Obama
Told him I'ma pick him up
And he said "really?"

On some country shit, I pick you up in a dump
Police in my trunk
What the fuck they trying find?
When they pull me over
They say I smell like a pound
I say I'm always going up
I'm never Gloing down
Twitter this, Twitter that
I'm going Slim Dunk pull up on ya block
What's in my gun make ya run
This balling shit be fun
But shooting pistols funner
I get the money later
I got shooting pistols hunger
And when I'm done sparking
Roll up and I forgot
Sosa you can't have this snub in the club
I ain't retarded
I do everything without giving fucks
I nonchalant it
Sosa, what the goals you want in
Life? I want the money
Sosa, what type of weed you
Smoke? I want the onions
Sosa, what type of chips you
Like? I want the Funyuns
I'm riding low in cold water
Or I'm riding around
Came with my cannon, can't win
Don't try it

Sosa since you got this money, you disappear
That how you feel
In the muthafucking hood, it's
Ain't how you steal, it's how you kill
Now I'm rich bitch, it ain't how you feel
It's how you live
And I'm on some big shit
It ain't what you was, it's how you is
When I come have your 3D glasses in
And have your ears before my son grow older
I'ma tell ya hide ya kids
I smoke doja, you smoke Folgers
Flame it up and now you're dizzy hit Obama
Told him I'ma pick him up
And he said "really?"