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void - Chrome Beretta (But Your In A Party Bathroom) lyrics

Artist: void

album: Chrome Beretta (But Your In A Party Bathroom)


AV with that drip, hoe
Lil' boy better step up
I been had the sauce so you niggas better ketchup
Stay with the strap we hittin' from the chest up
Six deep with the gang on the low in a Tesla
All black with the chrome Beretta
Took his flow and I'm doin' it better
In the cut ain't no matter the weather
Talkin' shit and I'm clutchin' the lever
Pull out the choppa and makin' 'em hiccup
I get me a shiver, she suckin' my dick up
He talkin' that shit, but he wishin' he ran up
Callin' up Leg 'cause I need that Beretta
Six deep pull up with the pressure
If lil' boy, boy step up, he leavin' in a stretcher
All black, with interior leather
Calm down, don't fuck with a killer
You- you, you niggas is less, my niggas is greater
Gave her the tip, lil' shawty a waiter
Ballin' out like I play for the Lakers
On a roll, bitch, I feel like a skater
She wanted dick, so I told her I'd cater
Had to snap, bitch, I feel like a gator
Had to snap couple rounds out the Glock
Run up on me and I'm airin' the block
Run up on me, get shot in your face
Draggin' the body all over the state
Just like some alcohol, you gettin' chased
Hop out the Benz, I hop in a Wraith
Put on a techno beat, shawty she feelin' me
Blowin' her back to the beat of the bass
Kickin' her out like I need space
After she gone, the number erased
Gang, gang, gang, gang
Yeah, I'm a killer
Gang, gang, gang, gang
I go gorillas
Gang, gang, gang, gang
Yeah, it's a thriller
Gang, gang, gang, gang
A caterpillar
Yeah, I keep the Mac on me, bitch, just call me Steve Jobs
This loud pack got me higher than them Greek Gods
I'm on the Southside, shooters got them dead eyes
We be stackin' bread high
We yo' fuckin' demise
Said all my money fuckin' dirty
Got these bitches, got these bitches, on my phone
What the fuck?
What the fuck?
What the fuck it really is?
They be talkin
"1nonly how the fuck you get so big, son?"
Money I be makin' holy fuck, I'm gettin' rich
I be in the whip, dirty ticket that minute (Beats on fire)
People tryna put us up together, are you Dennis?
Pick up off my feet, you so cut, house rented
Hold up, what they mean?
I said "Hold up, wait a minute"
Bitch I shoot you, yeah that's why I got it on my record
Got two-four fucks left to pick up, I'm on that beat for real
Like holy shit, like holy fuck
I'm high as fuck, I can't relax
I count this money, got this money stacking
Call me by the stack, broke bitch
Glock, I bust down
Thot, she bust down
Hot, I fuck now
Stop, I nut now
Watch, the fuck out
Knock, I'm up now
Shot, the bums down
Rock, I'm punk now
Milly rock, shine like I'm Jonny
Dang dang dang
Silly watch, Ion need a thing, but a gang chain
Iggy pop with the punk rock, you a damn lame
55, but I run a hundred on the highway
See that wocky got you loose
Say it to ya face, and then I say it in the booth
Hey, huh, what?
Fuck you bitches, I'm the truth
Bitch I'm gettin' brain from ya main baby boo
Yeah, fuck you too

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