
bravo the bagchaser & that mexican ot - chicken lyrics
[intro]
d+diego
[chorus: bravo the bagchaser]
i like to f+ck, b+tch
i like to touch chicken
i like guns and ones with the drums in ’em
.45 with the lemon squeeze on ’em
put the pressure on you can’t breathe, homie
’bout a bag, buy a hundred p’s, homie
seen your b+tch, she was lookin’ like she want it
g’s and me, but i got a white t on me
[verse 1: bravo the bagchaser]
used to wanna be, now i crashed down, d+mn
watch when i hop out that lam’
thuggin’ for real, f+ck thuggin’ for the camera
how are you gon’ walk outside with no blame or nothin’?
n+gga go show hundred bands or sum’
that’s your b+tch, put my d+ck on her tongue
i like wet sh+t up
i’m on shot a b+tches, i thought it was set up
i’on want the glock, baby, i’on want a beretta
i’ma pour some mud lately, i’ve been feelin’ fed up
put a beam right between his eyes, f+ck his head up
ooh, f+ck ’em up, now i f+ck his head up
[chorus: bravo the bagchaser]
i like to f+ck, b+tch
i like to touch chicken
i like guns and ones with the drums in ’em
.45 with the lemon squeeze on ’em
put the pressure on you can’t breathe, homie
’bout a bag, buy a hundred p’s, homie
seen your b+tch, she was lookin’ like she want it
g’s and me, but i got a white t on me
[verse 2: that mexican ot]
i like to disrespect b+tches
colonel sentence’s ’cause i got a chicken in this finger
l!ckin’ money stains, got my pants lookin’ like peter griffin
baby mad at me ’cause she know i keep it pimpin’
i’ll be tying that bag, i’ve been feelin’ like bravo
got a pound of weed, i’m chiefin’ it, kiefin’ like no morrow
i’ll be deep inside the streets, got me feelin’ like i’m a pop
i’m a mean ass be get refined no chatter
i’m a bucket toilet ’cause i go through some sh+t, but i still come steppin’ out
clean with a fresh white t
how you do that? i’m asking ot
f+ck you mean? now, i f+ck up the scene, lil’ hoe
[chorus: bravo the bagchaser]
i like to f+ck, b+tch
i like to touch chicken
i like guns and ones with the drums in ’em
.45 with the lemon squeeze on ’em
put the pressure on you can’t breathe, homie
’bout a bag, buy a hundred p’s, homie
seen your b+tch, she was lookin’ like she want it
g’s and me, but i got a white t on me
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