SWEET CHIN MUSIC Lyrics

The pack touchdown I'm making it flip

I got the work off so I'm taking a trip

Shooter sleeve on the gun that bitch got a grip

John Wick nigga I'm fully equipped

On the block working an all night shift

My zotti hit stronger than All Might bitch

Should've put a fuckin Rolex on my wrist

But I made the plug run out of Wock and the Tris

Hop out the whip and I'm shooting

Keep firing til he not moving

These niggas they wanna be street fighters until they get hit with Hadoukens

In your crib nigga we looting

Money long like the beard on Rick Rubin

She using my lingo she booted

The za hit my lungs with a sweet chin music

I'm built like a sculpture but still sipping lean I swear that my cup is the fountain of youth

I gotta be careful when I light my blunt because dropping that bitch is like dropping a nuke

I'm in the field with a K in my arms and I still coach niggas like I work for Duke

My shawty want me to call her Samus Aran she got two glocks with beams in her suit

I'm whipping that crack rock

Junkies they can't stop

Begging me never to close shop

Wrestling pots yea I'm giving 'em backdrops

Blunt to the face baby this not a co-op

That perc so strong I can't put up a fight

Masked up with a cape and sword Meta Knight

Let me drop two lines of that Wock in my Sprite

I got both hands on the twelve gauge, midnight

Bands on me

I got xans on me

Now her hands on me

Yea your bitch getting physical

When you on Planet Boot

You better light up a blunt

If you not getting high you a criminal

On the block I'm getting paid by junkies

Got so many profits my pockets look biblical

Sour Patch Kids Watermelon with shrooms

Two hours later it's blurring my visual

Hi-Tech cup while I eat my food with a perc fifteen

To me that's nutritional

Dumbass nigga must think I'm a fool

Tryna sell a pint with no seal that's unforgivable

Nigga I'm leading my army on your block

I'm ready for war lil bitch I'm a general

Got a mac eleven and an uzi on me Imma shoot 'til the body's no longer divisible

The pack touchdown I'm making it flip

I got the work off so I'm taking a trip

Shooter sleeve on the gun that bitch got a grip

John Wick nigga I'm fully equipped

On the block working an all night shift

My zotti hit stronger than All Might bitch

Should've put a fuckin Rolex on my wrist

But I made the plug run out of Wock and the Tris

Hop out the whip and I'm shooting

Keep firing til he not moving

These niggas they wanna be street fighters until they get hit with Hadoukens

In your crib nigga we looting

Money long like the beard on Rick Rubin

She using my lingo she booted

The za hit my lungs with a sweet chin music