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chronic (oz) - pull up lyrics

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[intro: movie & jay]
barbecue, huh?
how do you like your ribs?
gunshot
uh, it’s jay
aye

[verse 1: jay]
reporting live from the battlefront
crashed the scene, made em go beep now they’re backing up
tell these kids put the toys away, pack it up
smack em up and leave em rattled, never gave an actual f+ck
off chops like cal and chronic with no bowl to pass
rappers say they run the tracks? eat a d+ck, we bolting past
nah cuz you can’t even f+ck with my older bars
wanna have a crack? lights out like holden cars
safe to say chronic and jay got the flavour bro
if anybody steps out of line, i bobby boucher the hoes
cooking bars like fine dining, chron the cook and jay the host
we ain’t the same, i get the cake and go, you tryna save the hoes
st++z exquisite, don’t get high + i stay twisted
got the flame with the fire fists, dawg i’m ace with it
your chick been wanting me, you wonder why she tastes different
she lost her mind from giving all that brain, your bae skitzing so i keep a safe distance
yeah i be lane switching
know these bars are (sniff), dopamine cocaine twitching
flow insane, blowing brains on some cobain business
moving through the game under the codename spitters, you dig it?
ha, heck your facts before you talk
i don’t clap, i applaud unless you’re wack then you a bore
backs against the wall cause i spit dope on wax and hit record
they heard pablo, thought i had packs of raw
heh, remember when i got smacked in the jaw
now i’m back cracking rappers all in all, you just fiend to rumble
if you dogs want me out then you’ll just need a shovel
om tao poet spew dope, i don’t need to hustle
who needs weaker muscles when you’re deep in the jungle?
scene is a bundle of dumb dogs who, only seem to mumble
sounds like you only eat through a funnel
but trust when i beam above you, best believe i’ll keep it humble
[verse 2: chronic]
ay ay ay
fifteen, tried to hang myself from the same place i hang my chains
yo i swear that i’m a demon
i’m drowning in these dark thoughts that i’m f+ckin’ feeling
struggling with breathing, blood’s anemic when i’m dreaming and i’m sleeping
it’s the rap game that i’m fiending
i’m tryna be the king of this sh+t
i seem to be fit like i’m cinderella with the right shoe
when it comes to b+tches, most wanted + ice cube
and it’s certified + true
i’d hate to be you when me and bro pull up and shoot (baow)
pull up and shoot (baow baow)



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