Warhol.SS, GUN40 - Chopsticks lyrics
[Warhol.SS, GUN40 - Chopsticks lyrics]
Real shit, real talk, real money talk
'Til that money on the line
I don't wanna talk
Ayy, that's like more talk, haha, yeah, uh
Cookin' dog food, chopsticks (Chopsticks)
Glock on me, I'm blowin' this bitch
(I'm blowin' this bitch)
Fell in love 'cause she suck good dick
('Cause she give good head)
That's your ho and we just made a flick
(We just made a flick)
Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, countin' up
This shit so crazy
Countin' up this shit, it's daily
You know we get to this shit daily
We sell cocaine like the 80's
Know that cocaine kick like Jet Li
Damn bitch, you just drive
Me crazy, goddamn, bitch, you talk too much
White squares like the Brady Bunch
(The Brady Bunch)
Pussy talkin', know I get you touched
(Know I get you touched)
Niggas know I'm crazy, bitch
I mash the button (Mash the button)
Niggas sharin' clothes like we
Ain't grown as fuck (Grown as fuck)
Man, these niggas actin' like
They balls just dropped (Pussy)
Pussy boy, you actin' tough
I got somethin' gon' sit you down
223 that AR, please don't make me
Should just settle down
I know this Family Guy ass nigga
Ain't tryna go pound for pound
I'm fuckin' your fish, giggity giggity
She suckin' my dick, ooh, she filthy
Her nigga called her, know she guilty
I'm runnin' it up, I made like sixty
Cookin' dog food, chopsticks (Chopsticks)
Glock on me, I'm blowin' this bitch
(I'm blowin' this bitch)
Fell in love 'cause she suck good dick
('Cause she give good head)
That's your ho and we just made a flick
(We just made a flick)
Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, countin' up
This shit so crazy
Countin' up this shit, it's daily
You know we get to this shit daily
We sell cocaine like the 80's
Know that cocaine kick like Jet Li
Damn bitch, you just drive
Me crazy, goddamn, bitch, you talk too much
Audemar pink, I'm flooded with diamonds
Bustin' that brick, I'm Bancock's finest
Feelin' that cake, I shoot, no tryin'
Get in that bitch, she hooked on phonics
Back of that Jeep, she want some meat
Pour up the P, she pour up the cheap
Thirty round drum, that stick for the heat
Play with this shit, he got hung by the feet
Ooh, play with the beat, yeah
I used to play in the street
Look at, he just a reflection of me
Ooh, these niggas food, feast
That bitch, she bad and bougie, beast
Strum like guitar, like a fuji, preach
Take out my chopper and aim at his top
Beam on a nigga, he put in a box
Fifty-two custom, it's waitin' in line
Servin' the dope
Ain't got no money, lil' pussy, you broke
Ride with the demons, sayin', "On folks"
Balneciaga, I'm rockin' the coat, yeah
No more Ferragamo, I'm my mama's son
Been gettin' dope and then everybody run
Everybody gon' get to runnin', yeah, ooh
Cookin' dog food, chopsticks (Chopsticks)
Glock on me, I'm blowin' this bitch
(I'm blowin' this bitch)
Fell in love 'cause she suck good dick
('Cause she give good head)
That's your ho and we just made a flick
(We just made a flick)
Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, countin' up
This shit so crazy
Countin' up this shit, it's daily
You know we get to this shit daily
We sell cocaine like the 80's
Know that cocaine kick like Jet Li
Damn bitch, you just drive
Me crazy, goddamn, bitch, you talk too much