Chief Keef - Text lyrics
Chief Keef [Keith Farrelle Cozart] Chicago, Illinois, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Chief Keef - Text lyrics]
Beat Gains stuntman
Sosa baby
Runnin' up that sack
Smokin' on this dope, also known as pack
And we got them GATs, we won't cut no slack
In these Fendi slacks, I be speakin' facts
I'm all about a stack
Big ass blunts of thrax, and that be the OG
Just to be exact
She like how I flex, so she want some sex
I don't wanna talk she don't wanna text
Please don't cross the gun line
Gon' cost you your sunshine
And I got the D-line lookin'
Like a lunch line and today is payday
So you know it's crunch time
Got my AR with me, that's my lil' sunshine
Pour that codeine up
It's 'bout that get drunk time
You gon catch your deer
I'ma go and hunt mine
Got the utensils bitch I got the supplies
Y'all my shorties so
When you see me say "What up Dad!"
Ain't no puff, puff pass
Boy I had a rough past
In the second grade I had a
BB in my lunch bag
You know the streets is some ties
Get stuck like a thumb tack
Foe nem took yo choppa from you
Come and getcho drum back
Runnin' up that sack
Smokin' on this dope, also known as pack
And we got them GATs, we won't cut no slack
In these Fendi slacks, I be speakin' facts
I'm all about a stack
Big ass blunts of thrax, and that be the OG
Just to be exact
She like how I flex, so she want some sex
I don't wanna talk she don't wanna text
I'ma pour this pint up in some lemon lime
You can get yo shit split
Fuckin' wit' me n' the guys
Mobbin' with some big shit
Don't pay us no mind
Hit you wit' some big hit's
Won't take us no time
Your bitch want this big dick
She not even fine
Pockets be on be big bitch
I'm not even lyin'
This shit is off the fuckin' dome
I'm not even tryin'
It ain't hard to get up wit' me
I'm not even hidin'
Bwoy that old ass Benz, you not even slidin'
Hit yo' bitch from the back
She gone let me have it
Bitch I'm all about the dollas
Like I play with Dallas
Turn this shit malfunction
Texting me could get tragedy bang
This shit is crazy
I'm a 90's baby, I know nothin' bout the 80's
Hit you from Atlanta, take a L
Look like McGrady we was really warrin'
I looked up and God just saved me
Runnin' up that sack
Smokin' on this dope, also known as pack
And we got them GATs, we won't cut no slack
In these Fendi slacks, I be speakin' facts
I'm all about a stack
Big ass blunts of thrax
And that be the OG just to be exact
She like how I flex, so she want some sex
I don't wanna talk she don't wanna text
Bang!
Sosa baby
Runnin' up that sack
Smokin' on this dope, also known as pack
And we got them GATs, we won't cut no slack
In these Fendi slacks, I be speakin' facts
I'm all about a stack
Big ass blunts of thrax, and that be the OG
Just to be exact
She like how I flex, so she want some sex
I don't wanna talk she don't wanna text
Please don't cross the gun line
Gon' cost you your sunshine
And I got the D-line lookin'
Like a lunch line and today is payday
So you know it's crunch time
Got my AR with me, that's my lil' sunshine
Pour that codeine up
It's 'bout that get drunk time
You gon catch your deer
I'ma go and hunt mine
Got the utensils bitch I got the supplies
Y'all my shorties so
When you see me say "What up Dad!"
Ain't no puff, puff pass
Boy I had a rough past
In the second grade I had a
BB in my lunch bag
You know the streets is some ties
Get stuck like a thumb tack
Foe nem took yo choppa from you
Come and getcho drum back
Runnin' up that sack
Smokin' on this dope, also known as pack
And we got them GATs, we won't cut no slack
In these Fendi slacks, I be speakin' facts
I'm all about a stack
Big ass blunts of thrax, and that be the OG
Just to be exact
She like how I flex, so she want some sex
I don't wanna talk she don't wanna text
I'ma pour this pint up in some lemon lime
You can get yo shit split
Fuckin' wit' me n' the guys
Mobbin' with some big shit
Don't pay us no mind
Hit you wit' some big hit's
Won't take us no time
Your bitch want this big dick
She not even fine
Pockets be on be big bitch
I'm not even lyin'
This shit is off the fuckin' dome
I'm not even tryin'
It ain't hard to get up wit' me
I'm not even hidin'
Bwoy that old ass Benz, you not even slidin'
Hit yo' bitch from the back
She gone let me have it
Bitch I'm all about the dollas
Like I play with Dallas
Turn this shit malfunction
Texting me could get tragedy bang
This shit is crazy
I'm a 90's baby, I know nothin' bout the 80's
Hit you from Atlanta, take a L
Look like McGrady we was really warrin'
I looked up and God just saved me
Runnin' up that sack
Smokin' on this dope, also known as pack
And we got them GATs, we won't cut no slack
In these Fendi slacks, I be speakin' facts
I'm all about a stack
Big ass blunts of thrax
And that be the OG just to be exact
She like how I flex, so she want some sex
I don't wanna talk she don't wanna text
Bang!