chuckyy - going lyrics
[intro]
(yeah, n+gga, f+ck is you talkin’ ’bout, n+gga? you know who’s on the beat)
(wardo, what the h+ll goin’?) on the other side, you know what i’m sayin’?
all life been some sh+t
n+ggas be jumpin’ off the plane, no parachute
n+ggas jump in the water, no life vest
you n+ggas backwards
yeah
[verse]
most of these n+ggas get left on drills and you tryna tell me they k!ll for real? (drills, drills)
and you know chuckyy dog got the wheel, i dump him down, won’t panic still
glock 20 under my belt with a kriss vec’, i wear twenty+eight, i gotta chill
these n+ggas’ life goin’ down the hill, i was chasin’ sh+t down, now rap my career (yeah, yeah)
we move sh+t likе bmf did, we get sh+t dropped all thе way in michigan (yeah, yeah)
f+ck n+gga drop a lo’, bet we push up, bronem spotted one, then we clip ’em (then we clip ’em)
i don’t even rock no more amiri, they think i went devil, but really a christian
b+tch tryna have my baby, you trippin’, i’ma step on hoes, you can’t even kick it (step)
in the trenches, i’m still a regular n+gga, in the tsa, i be walkin’ with a limp and sh+t
bake a n+gga sh+t like a pillsbury biscuit, “why you do that?” ’cause his sh+t got a ticket on it
these n+ggas just be thinkin’ i’m a rapper, i’m probably the n+gga that probably catch your homie (rrr)
step on a n+gga just like a zombie, switch got sick, that b+tch threw up on him (rrr, rrr, rrr, rrr)
workin’ at magic, i’ll probably put a bone in her, for that sh+t, i need me a trophy (no cap)
dunk on a f+ck n+gga just like rozan, how the f+ck you mad ’cause i’m chosen? (no bap)
in a lam’ truck, i’m switchin’ the lane up, tellin’ bugg’s dumb ass, “just scoot over” (no bap)
n+ggas get splattered in the bin like coffee, i was boss and i f+cked on a four piece
the way they post, you would think blogs know me, in the stu’, she tryna f+ck, she blowin’ me
everybody go in the crib in the mornin’, cadillac v truck, sound like we throwin’ it (hrr, hrr)
i just been sat back, plannin’ my tour and sh+t, might jack 200k in the mornin’ (ching)
the way sh+t goin’, when a n+gga get dropped, we gon’ spin back and we gon’ f+ck up the funeral
[outro]
ain’t no f+ckin’ rap bap
n+ggas know how the f+ck we comin’, we ain’t gotta broadcast none of this sh+t
we leave sh+t right there where the f+ckin’ trees grow, dumb+ass lil’ boy
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