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malcolm smalls - chop chop chop (freestyle) lyrics

let me lift off, with mics i’m eric bischoff
curve hoes with that merlot this is yellowtail not cristal
no cattiness, i’m a big dawg, with an appet-te, like rick ross
i slung bars like a hip-toss, i’m thinking throne sh-t, you gettin picked off
i bring life on the track, with my presence, my sh-t probably got kylie pregnant
d-mn, i’m a legend, y’all n-gg-s dead-ends, so on top, i might headspin
back with a vengeance, n-gg-s losin function with them fn’s
cards rackin’ up them charges, goin fed then
money stretching like gluten, bring the bread in
it’s gettin heavy now, i hit ’em with that “oh well”
heard them n-gg-s talkin’ greasy, i was so chill
i ain’t give two f’s, but they both failed
tryna be on what i’m kickin’ they are toenails, oh h-ll
them bul’s full of shyt, they so arrogant
sh-t being themselves, to get a better sense
not gonna carry these, kids, i’m not a surrogate
these dudes lookin like ladies, thats word to aerosmith
on y’all sets, we sit down, tal’um bout checks, y’all pressed bout discounts
on that next, gettin off like a dismount
make ’em lose they drive, i’m the impound
i’m money, and they couldn’t match the value
when i’m up, i get like sabu
barbed wire couldn’t stop a n-gg-, i am taboo
them cats lie, flippin’ sides like a t-ssle
rap acts, still spittin ordure, i rock right, look like oysters
i’m direct with it, i don’t need your pointers, while im deep in the game, they in the foyer
still pressin’ n-gg-s, like a wurlitzer, all about green call it herbiture
i’m going straight up, but my shawty got curvature
she breathtaking, you can’t even have a word with her
in debacles, my g’s sprayin, like a nozzle
n-gg-s got it, then they toppled, you gon’ need god just to stop duke
i blew devil sh-t, just give me the instrumental and i bet you, i will gobble it
i’m nothing that you should step to, i’m not stable, i will drop ya sh-t
money doesn’t stink, it’s more petunia, my pecunia, like a tune-up
get sh-t fixed, i mean like nutured
spittin’ heavy like i blew chunks
asking for a pound, this more like two tons
’bout to shoot a feature this weeknd, girl show the crew love
from the runner to director, plus the gunner is a sketcher
if you f-ck around gon’ need stretchers
watch on, but mine timeless, touch green, simple simon
locked in, like confinement
big sh-t, might need a wide lens
lotta things goin’ down in the background
got it hidden, you can’t get it, with a patdown
y’all gettin too thin, lookin’ like bad brows
that weak sh-t really what you want to p-ss out?
making these moves, i can do-si-do
stay cookin up while they don’t see dough
stealin styles i ain’t lent, like an old peacoat
need my pocket full of faces, when i hold my phone
that means no emojis ho, get the bag no groceries though
funny how dat bih, private parts opened up, entered shawty with no keycode
i’m low key-yo, should read don’t proceed, oh

- malcolm smalls lyrics

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