Token - Chit Chat lyrics

Red oh my God, Ronny

Sit on the couch, ho
Pimp shit intro to outro
Rich and I'm shallow
Spit like thinkin' I might choke
Drink like Cinco de Mayo
Tints on the ride home, bitch
I've been tryna hide
Pop shit like Prince or a Michael
All white whip, it's albino
By no means I'ma quit, I'ma die on top
Pop-pop to the enemy
Shot with a cop-cop tendency
Hot like I got-got felony
Gotta to be a dog, top, top, top pedigree
Give me top-top in the top-top mezzanine
While my opener on
Right-right in front of me
Gotta fuck three for the night
To be fun to me
Swipe, swipe, check the price, all on me
Homie is the best, strap to your chest like
Like dungaree
Enemy, I hold smoke, bro, I'm chim chimney
I'm Soho living, but I'm homegrown mentally
I'm so-so wise that the homies
Tryna get like me my bro-bro from Brooklyn
He call his Timbs Timothy
A boatload of women like we goin' on a trip
Don't trip
'cause my bro's clip so-so finicky
The slo-mo fuckin' with
The cold-cold Hennessy
Put me at peace like when K-Ci
And JoJo sing to me

What the fuck?
By 9 pm i need a possible bitch at the crib
(Fuck)
Hop up in the sleigh with a big bag of gifts
(Fuck)
I don't put my time into chit-chat, I'm rich
(Fuck)
Hop up in a sleigh with a big bag of gifts
(Fuck) take it through the city and
Give back to kids (Fuck)
When she get to toppin', I Big Mac the bitch
(Fuck)
I don't put my time into chit-chat, I'm rich
Rich, rich, rich, rich, rich

She fuck like a celebrity more than me
Uh huh
I gotta repeat if she freak-freak, uh huh
I never cheat-cheat but I see three of 'em
T T, she call me T, I'm the boss and shit
Pray to that motherfucker like it's
A cross and shit
G, Gs, C, Cs all on her bag and shit
Smack that ass
Now it's redder than some MAGA shit
Stuntin' like my daddy when I'm
Snappin' at the mic
Trigger happy, kitty-catty on my lap
I got the mice nice fanny pack
I got a couple K and that's light
"Baby, did you really make a
Inde milli'?" That's right (yeah)
All the women pretty, more petty than that
Chameleon with everything because
I really adapt
I line 'em up and I'm like Kanye
And 50 in the Rolling Stone
Head to head to head to head
To head to head to head (O oh)
Treat the homies like a bread knife
Break bread
I be tryna count the bread 'til I'm braindead
Fresh, so clean, I do what Andre said
Baby, I ain't from Atlanta
I look like a bank head
Head of the bank offices
Credit with great confidence
'Bout to cop the presidential
I never debate politics
Henny, I'm eight bottles in baby, I'm faded
Take me to bed where the runway model is
Fuck, what time is it? 'Cause

What the fuck?
By 9 pm i need a possible bitch at the crib
(Fuck)
Hop up in the sleigh with a big bag of gifts
(Fuck)
I don't put my time into chit-chat, I'm rich
(Fuck)
Hop up in a sleigh with a big bag of gifts
(Fuck) take it through the city and
Give back to kids (Fuck)
When she get to toppin', I Big Mac the bitch
(Fuck)
I don't put my time into chit-chat, I'm rich
Rich, rich, rich, rich, rich