Chandelier Lyrics

"I call her Chandelier!"

Good at being bad, God forgive me for my sins

I walk in and shake the room, my name alone give them the spins

Mr. Give Out Heart Attacks, I'm EBK, bitch, fuck my kin

Slap the shit out all of y'all except for Shawny and my twin

Real steppas, we just swap the whip, ain gotta scratch the vin

I keep Tayske to my right, he got the L's, I'll pass to him

I want somethin' on my wrist that twinkle like a chandelier

I'm tryn' spray some in some shit that look like Hayden Panettiere

All that hot shit they was talkin' bout, that's what I came to hear

I'm a face arranger, knuckle up, I'm Big 2 Cannonier

This that re-rock, but sniff enough and you can feel the fish

Servin' base, it's in the 808s, just let it hit

NASCAR, I done made a pit stop for your bitch

I pull up, she eat dick and then I dip

I'm just sittin' in the stu, crushin' blues, tryna bip

That hoe callin' No ID, she don't want nothin' but some dick

She like how I rock Revenge, Amiri jeans that match the Ricks

But she childish, she shoulda known that this trick ain for kids

You could never pull my card cause I secured it with my credit

Try to swipe my shit and I'm gon' kill who sent the message

I'ma do my time and pop right back up where I left it

In the courtroom throwin' signs, I got my lawyer representin

Yeen gotta ask me where I'm from, I'll throw it up

I'm a renegade, I throw my 4 and drop a dub

She think she dancin' on me, I got Nina in the front

Bitch, I'm slidin' in that truck with fullies tucked, hop out, get to boomin'

We could do it, whole gang got the itch, we tryna boom em

I might relapse, throw my head back, pop the yerk and get the groovin'

Get the scoomin', titties on my blick, my glock know Kama Sutra

Cross a nigga out of then Trae take him to church like hallelujah

Who the fuck would have a name around this bitch without Big 2?

[REDACTED]

Bunch of cappin' ass niggas woofin' bout what they gon' do

Double dog dare them niggas to come this way and see it through

Boa Im Mr. Put That Shit On, I get flee in Carhartt

Whole gang rollin' out with choppers and I bet they all spark

Bet not try to dip, these hollow tips a leave your car parked

Type of buttons I'm tryna press ain't finna make the car start

I want somethin' on my wrist that twinkle like a chandelier

I'm tryn' spray some in some shit that look like Hayden Panettiere

All that hot shit they was talkin' bout, that's what I came to hear

I'm a face arranger, knuckle up, I'm Big 2 Cannonier