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chris king - jump rope lyrics

[chorus: chris king]
don’t come around with no bl!ck, [?] clutch yourself
c+cky ass n+gga, man, that b+tch better love herself
baring arms to the point i could hug myself
miss goody two shoes come around and get f+cked herself
i’m the plug, b+tch, i know where it’s at
bail for the cops, the blower in tact
bail in the foreign, f+ck around and get lost
tryna jump rope [?] nemans like rick ross

[verse 1: chris king]
when there’s so much money in your pocket, it look like [?] passes
treat every minute valuable, you can’t get your time back
gotta check the energy, we tell a joke and get a dry laugh
two pares of [?] in the hoodie, that sh+t like 5 racks
[?] is where i shop at
but you can die for white t’s, get in a 5 pack
or i could die for no reason, over my flag
sh+t, but i got drive, f+ck around, i need a low jack
stars in the ceiling, let the rockets fly
going ghost in the ghost, even the driver hide
catch a body, i flip it, then i pile drive
when it’s up, get you f+cked, it’s a myle high
now it’s cold as detroit, a 7 myle drive
heat it up, f+ck it up, do it one more time
i heat it up, f+ck it up, do it one more time
i heat it up, f+ck it up, do it one more time
[chorus: chris king]
don’t come around with no bl!ck, [?] clutch yourself
c+cky ass n+gga, man, that b+tch better love herself
baring arms to the point i could hug myself
miss goody two shoes come around and get f+cked herself
i’m the plug, b+tch, i know where it’s at
bail for the cops, the blower in tact
bail in the foreign, f+ck around and get lost
tryna jump rope [?] nemans like rick ross

[verse 2: rjmrla]
[?] 1000 [?]
turn your mans to a runner, like a new balance
free slime, free gunna, til it go backwards
you outa line, you need straightening, we shoot [?]
shoot backwards
we shoot at ya
tell that b+tch i got free bundles, she gon’ [?]
she need a new mattress
nothing set in stone, less you signed your name
you can drown in that water, tryna find your way
[?] took my brain, 2000’s helped
2010’s tryna spin, rather drive myself
i f+cked [?] find my belt
i jumped ’bout 30 n+ggas [?] fly in h+ll
[?]
still having nightmares ’bout the trap, like a house rat
go through my old contacts, and had a flashback
i had that b+tch a while back, you can have that
what you mad at?
[chorus: chris king]
don’t come around with no bl!ck, [?] clutch yourself
c+cky ass n+gga, man, that b+tch better love herself
baring arms to the point i could hug myself
miss goody two shoes come around and get f+cked herself
i’m the plug, b+tch, i know where it’s at
bail for the cops, the blower in tact
bail in the foreign, f+ck around and get lost
tryna jump rope [?] nemans like rick ross

- chris king lyrics

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