Lil Reese, Chief Keef - BBQ lyrics

Keith Farrelle Cozart

[Lil Reese, Chief Keef - BBQ lyrics]

Skrrt, skrrt (Skrrt, skrrt)
Skrrt,   skrrt (Skrrt, skrrt)
Skrrt,   skrrt (Skrrt, skrrt)
Skrrt, skrrt (Skrrt, skrrt)
Skrrt, skrrt (Skrrt, skrrt)
Beat  was for Tadoe he  ain't do it, though
Guess who got it now
Ayy,   ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy

Whatcha talking 'bout, Willis?
I can't wear my white Amiris
I got cheese on my fingers (Ayy)
Smoking  dopey dope dope
Done, done, done is weed man
But I be with my villains (Bloods)
Skrrt, skrrt, I'm peelin'
Finna pull up, mark the spot
This ain't no fuckin' R Chronic (Bang)
Okay, since we cookin' beef
Okay, since we cookin' beef
I'ma need a large skillet (Ayy)
If he a dog, then we China
Thirty five shots, that's Cinco de Mayo, ayy
Named both guns, David and Goliath, ayy
Who tryna get high? My old head fire, ayy
You ever seen a XO spit out fire?
Told her hold on, exhausted
Bitch, I'm tired, ayy
She gave me a gram, told me JR rider, ayy
I beat 99 and they all light up

Turn his brain to some barbecue
She asked me what I like, baby, I pick you
And he live with his mama but he telling you
That his pockets is filled and
His garage is too
Who is these niggas? I don't know you
Donald Trump building a wall, go run into it
Rollie on my hand and a gun is, too
Bitch, I feel like Waka Flocka, "Oh
Let's do it"

I pull up with them young
Foolies aiming at you
Too many niggas riding
They knowin' what it do
Just blew fifty thousand
Made it back times two
I put them shooters on your ass
You ain't knowin' who (Nah)
That GetBack have 'em blue (Blue)
Niggas better pick a side
Niggas better choose
My side, we don't lose (Lose)
My side pack them tools (Tools)
If he with the opps, then he a opp
We gon' show him what it do
Fuck around turn his brains to some barbecue
I'm like hold on bro, stand
Down, let me get him, let me shoot
Sosa got GetBackGang with him, too
All my niggas they gang, it ain't no fufu
Niggas killin' hoes, that's so fu

Turn his brain to some barbecue
She asked me what I like, baby, I pick you
And he live with his mama but he telling you
That his pockets is filled and
His garage is too
Who is these niggas? I don't know you
Donald Trump building a wall, go run into it
Rollie on my hand and a gun is, too
Bitch, I feel like Waka Flocka, "Oh
Let's do it"

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