Rapsody - Chrome (Like Ooh) lyrics
[Rapsody - Chrome Like Ooh lyrics]
You gotta a shot youngin’
You ain't gotta get shot
Dangerous to measure a man by
The size of his cock
I was told to measure a King
By the size of his flock
Who your leader and where y'all going? My
Army big enough carry a boeing’
Ride off to the Lox hair braided, twisted
Wind blowin’ thru my knots
9th, G, Jones, Khrysis, Amp, Kash, Nottz
Mama got soulfood cooking in the pots
You in a grave situation you
Should look into a plot
Dirt on my name, boy I'm way too smart
Chest full of a pride don't
Mean nothin’ without heart
One life to live so you gotta make a mark
West side told one thang
Don't never rock wit marks
I only rock wit mark, that's my lil brother
That's the big homie
Daddy said always keep a G on me
I got the dagger back that thang still sharp
I really play the game
Y'all commentate behind doors
Don't never say my name cuz
It might end yours
Whitaker, the wit of her, good Lord
Ain't got keys like Khaled but
I still open doors
A few in my crew flew the coop
The day I fly the coupe
I'll probably get woop woop’d
Speeding thru the laney
What we call high schoolin’
Painted that like Delaney
We see it in color too
Synesthetic, know everybody won't GET it
I'm patient though, no wonder they regret it
When I ooh pull up in the coupe
When the chrome coming? It’s coming in June
When the chrome coming? It’s coming in June
Ooh, ooh
Pull up on em naw, hold pull back
Don’t show all your cards
They ain’t worth that
Spoon feed these niggas
Baby teeth these nigga who they teethin’ on?
Me, my nigga
Chrome been spinning on my mind
Hair, face new outfit, I'm fine
Trips round the world wit
Homies we all flyin’
Everything they say ain't gospel, lames lie
Boys always taught don't cry, but need to cry
I was taught to respect the driver
More than I do the ride ride wit me homie
Ain't nothing to hold the wheel
When I was hungry you looked out
You always got me a meal
Workin on my glowup
They askin if I got mills
I got family, I got stress
Got success and bills good God!
Put 20 inches on the axle
We cop them classic ol' thangs
In the Hill like Axel
Lines better than all the rappers
Aligned if they ask you
Ridin' Shotgun, sittin askew
On the straight narrow i called up mama up
Told her ‘bout my summer reign
She thought ‘bout Carl Thomas
I said no no no, no no I more like Giannis
Must be real to get these honors
That's why they put G’s on us
I'm Real represent where you from?
Snow Hill when you gon pull wit up
New chrome on your wheels?
Chicken chasin all summer, pocket muscle real
I'm Real represent where you from?
Snow Hill when you gon pull wit up
New chrome on your wheels?
Chicken chasin all summer, pocket muscle real