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g.t. - mr. chow lyrics

[intro]
(damjonboi)

[verse 1: g.t.]
ayy, i was a young n+gga servin’ out the days inn
i’m like forty thousand in, it’s like day ten
i had to sit and chill, get this sh+t in order
runnin’ through a half+slab, watchin’ law & order
f+ck what n+ggas talkin’, all that sh+t boring
that batch hit like blue magic, it’s from ‘cross the border
bust it out the duct tape, let ’em taste it for us
soon as they say it’s grade a, we start takin’ orders
f+ck all that bubblegum rap sh+t
f+ck with us, we can make that money do a backflip
the game f+cked up, but we up here still sellin’
i’m ’bout to touch down, i turned around and start backpedalin’
play dumb and you’ll leave with a cracked mallet
brand+new forgiatos, thousand wires floatin’ up the 7
you ain’t no supplier, you just grabbin’ a middleman
they say this sh+t gettin’ hot, but we still gon’ mail it
jumpin’ off the jet with ’bout a hundred in my backpack
the drop came with the pilot seats, i just lay back
you think this b+tch just an old+school, but it beat ‘cats
a thousand horses, i just hit the pedal and this b+tch scratch
[chorus: g.t.]
ayy, yeah, b+tch
how could we ever be f+cked up, for real, n+gga? think about it
jumpin’ in them big body whips when we leave the house
we used to bust ‘scripts, take zips way up to the mountains
f+ck the whole club up and leave up out it
everybody brung a strap with us, we don’t need no bouncers
be broke, n+gga, what? how do you allow it?
cipriani eight days straight, now i miss the trap

[verse 2: peezy]
how the f+ck you n+ggas still broke? man, that’s crazy
i wasn’t brought up like you n+ggas, i can’t lie, you boys lazy
it ain’t hard to get some pape’, grab a skizzy and a wrap
spin your wrist and make it lock, turn a split into an eighthy
tell the kids to go outside, it’s too much rizzy on the town
racks runnin’ through the counter, fiends smokin’ in the bas+m+nt
don’t no rats run in my family, only crackheads and gangsters
had some workers turnt to bosses and some n+ggas that’ll spank you
give my coyo credits ’til the first, he said thank you
free my cousin, he can’t move, he got a tether on his ankle
how the f+ck can we go broke? i’m just thinkin’
if rap fail, we can still go out of town and get paper, n+gga (real talk, facts)

[chorus: g.t.]
ayy, yeah, b+tch
how could we ever be f+cked up, for real, n+gga? think about it
jumpin’ in them big body whips when we leave the house
we used to bust ‘scripts, take zips way up to the mountains
f+ck the whole club up and leave up out it
everybody brung a strap with us, we don’t need no bouncers
be broke, n+gga, what? how do you allow it?
cipriani eight days straight, now i miss the trap

- g t lyrics

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