chronic x vans rat - dollar store fit lyrics
[intro: chronic & vans rat]
can opening
oi cal?
yeah?
let’s do this sh+t (let’s do this sh+t)
oi
yo, yo, yo
[verse 1: chronic]
i’m bout to be on top this rap game
bars are dirty like an ashtray, me and cal just made my best tape
be the goat? i’ll see to it
wack scene? i’ll see through it like an x+ray
took a break to let my bars gestate
so you’d best hate, when i’m coming up
when i’m coming for your neck, all the bros say i’m up next
it’s fair to say that’s a fantasy
having dreams ’bout the fans i’ll save
speaking to ’em through the music at a rapid rate
semi+automatic on the beat like m16
nah, fully auto 15+ar
tryna get up on your radar
racing fakers to the top, drop to second; see ya later
ain’t need a navigator, ain’t no rally racer
getting high like an elevator
talking to myself, don’t need a narrator
green up on my scales like an alligator
not your friendly neighbour, i’m the guy+forget the name of
blowing up like an a+bomb, making fire like some napalm
so if you sick of the same songs you came to the right place
spitting rhymes at a nice pace, i’m irate
c+nts tryna hop on my wave but they too late
my brain’s numb from this toothache
still stressing ’bout my life, how to ruin it
swear i’m doing it but i’m new to it
only 17 with a pocket full of dreams
i, wanna be on stage with huskii, l+geez
chillin+i+t, comp+l+e+t+e and shadow from the p
i swear this rap game’s all luck ’cause they c+nts just suck
good thing i’m lucky
all these b+tches say chronic, cal and jay are so lovely
but rap’s the only hoe i’m loving but my b+tch super bad
no mclovin, no mclovin, this petty sh+t, i’m so above it
i’m too high, i smoke a beug, cone or a bucket
too fly, all the way up in the sky
i was losing weight
i took a break but i’m back at it like crack addicts
brain’s had it, asthmatic with some bad habits
that’s it, always dry, need some chapstick
on the hunt for a fat stick, chopped sticks
like a geisha, these g+y c+nts need to wake up
stop wearing make+up, you fake c+nts
you can’t rap, you can’t rap
my heart turned cold, it was freezing up
dreaming up all the ways, could’ve been enough but i’m not
i’m tryna figure out how to tie this rope in the right knot
tryna google it, well only something like an uber tip
and here it is, it’s my b+tch
when i think of happiness, i think of you and me
i can see years with you, not just two or three
you saved me
[intermission: vans rat]
you saved me
aye, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh (aye)
aye, aye
[verse 2: vans rat]
you ain’t popping off for sh+t
you can’t spit, extra [?] clique
dollar store fit on that b+tch that you f+cking with
rolling up a spliff, wrote it diff, know we’re dropping skids
please stop trying, you ain’t me so get the f+ck up off my d+ck
you can’t write, you can’t roll, you can’t even rap for sh+t
bagging up nugs of all these different buds for me to rip
chronic popped the cap inside the tonic, let me get the gin
got so high i closed my eyes and put your mixtape in the bin
smashed up off my face, making haste, left hand on the mace
burning green like ace every day, b+tch i love the taste
western side’s my state, it’s my home where i’m born and raised
infinite like skate, never die, never leave a trace
[outro: vans rat & jay]
never leave trace
motherf+ckers, arghhh
never leave a trace
coughing
never leave a trace
f+ck
never leave a
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