Devin The Dude - Nothin' Really Just Chillin' lyrics
[Devin The Dude - Nothin' Really Just Chillin' lyrics]
I'm not in my right mind and it's nighttime
Higher than a Georgia pine
But it's time to write rhymes
Shoot 'em through the pipeline to
Your partners in the public
Hopin' that they love it
Fuck it if it has no subject
But some act like Uncle Ruckus
Don't want niggas havin' nothin'
Like the only thing we like
Is fightin', shootin', stabbin', cuttin'
No, I have no nine-to-five
But I rap and sing at least
Now I cop a box of chicken
Used to get a wing a piece
"Do you want your cornbread?" Man
You better go on 'head
Aw, mane, anyone you can call? "Shit
My phone dead"
Tone said in '89, time to do the wild thing
I'll slang cow brain and serve
It with chow mein
Cloudrains, I mean rainclouds over my head
What the fuck? Don't even know what I said
I'm just trippin', rappin', tippin', tappin'
Sippin', laughin', let me get that, bae
What's happenin'?
What you doin', nigga? Nothin' really
Just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
Nothin' really, somethin' silly
Groove to fill my album up
Smooth and witty, cool and chilly
Who that bitch that grabbed my nuts?
DJ, turn the music up
Put a lil' more bass in it
Bandit got a hookah full of weed
I guess I'll take a hit
For the sake of it, I'll buy a whole bottle
Of Bud Light and take a cold swallow
Go holla at my partners 'cause
Now everybody's got it
That loud, that fire, that heat, that gas
That exotic
The Rockets, Astros, Arrows and Comets
All in Houston, flyin' high, just like I'm is
High as fuck, time is up, three o'clock
Club close nothin' else poppin' but AKs
Gauges and snub nose
Rub toes with a gal later
When we hit the sheets
Right after she break the weed down
And I split the Sweet
Finally 'bout to get a piece, finna freak
Telephone rings, what the hell you want
Mane?
What you doin', nigga? Nothin' really
Just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
Nothin' really, just chillin'
Nothin' really, just chillin'
Nothin' really, just chillin'
Higher than a Georgia pine
But it's time to write rhymes
Shoot 'em through the pipeline to
Your partners in the public
Hopin' that they love it
Fuck it if it has no subject
But some act like Uncle Ruckus
Don't want niggas havin' nothin'
Like the only thing we like
Is fightin', shootin', stabbin', cuttin'
No, I have no nine-to-five
But I rap and sing at least
Now I cop a box of chicken
Used to get a wing a piece
"Do you want your cornbread?" Man
You better go on 'head
Aw, mane, anyone you can call? "Shit
My phone dead"
Tone said in '89, time to do the wild thing
I'll slang cow brain and serve
It with chow mein
Cloudrains, I mean rainclouds over my head
What the fuck? Don't even know what I said
I'm just trippin', rappin', tippin', tappin'
Sippin', laughin', let me get that, bae
What's happenin'?
What you doin', nigga? Nothin' really
Just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
Nothin' really, somethin' silly
Groove to fill my album up
Smooth and witty, cool and chilly
Who that bitch that grabbed my nuts?
DJ, turn the music up
Put a lil' more bass in it
Bandit got a hookah full of weed
I guess I'll take a hit
For the sake of it, I'll buy a whole bottle
Of Bud Light and take a cold swallow
Go holla at my partners 'cause
Now everybody's got it
That loud, that fire, that heat, that gas
That exotic
The Rockets, Astros, Arrows and Comets
All in Houston, flyin' high, just like I'm is
High as fuck, time is up, three o'clock
Club close nothin' else poppin' but AKs
Gauges and snub nose
Rub toes with a gal later
When we hit the sheets
Right after she break the weed down
And I split the Sweet
Finally 'bout to get a piece, finna freak
Telephone rings, what the hell you want
Mane?
What you doin', nigga? Nothin' really
Just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin'
Nothin' really, just chillin'
Nothin' really, just chillin'
Nothin' really, just chillin'