Champ ft. J-Money Lyrics

Good morning, no, it's good to be ass

I just flipped on the radio, what do you know

It's Johnny Cash, I'll walk out, splash

Cue when the man walks around

We always know it's you, when the plan's falling down

I smuggle plenty, guess it's when hand comes around

Solo, red cup, red filling it up

How's that sound? Like silence

Same as me, when it come to the violent

Cause I'm the champ, bitch, this ain't a scrimmage

You tried to take my crown, so I'm gonna take your village

Hide your kids, hide your wife

Y'all better run for your life

I'll smoke the whole city out, on a wall hug

Making every shot count, like Dr. J

My team paramount, like stone with a tray

Making the ground shake, like K-Flake

Or an ass quake, hit you like Bobby Boucher

That's tough, like I'm well done steak

Or hitting a lick in a toupee

Or how I stand on business every damn day

Keep your hands to yourself, or we pulling up

Taking shots like 2K

Hit a three-peat, live the sushi life

Always raw, always got sticks

Been fucking with them for 20 years

Could say I'm good with blicks

Don't fuck around with wax, make you a candle

Three-three-eight Lapua for multiple clicks

Fuck a switch, accuracy and patience

Smoke three clicks, put you over my knee

Pick your own switch, set you up with a bitch

Call me hitch, all that shit talking

Dug your own ditch, who's left handed

No one expects it, burn that witch

Spanish Inquisition, plug for real

Like the French Connection

You're just bound and determined

To bring back natural selection

Put that nose, in another fucking direction

You can't see my section

Cause you hate him from outside the club

You can only watch with subtitles

Cause you never get the dub

Your barbecue trash, where's the rub

Oh yeah, your girl handing out

In the bay with the tug

Didn't need a fucking drum

No Mississippi, just the old pink mist

I'm above you like JJ, charter a jet plane

Fly this is Spectrum

And did you like red rum

Calculated, didn't need a fucking drum

Presenting the heavyweight champion of the world

On a loophole, a hood cease and desist

The recoil show how versatile the flick of my wrist

I'm more than TTG, leave your pants pissed

Walk you down, not a shot missed

Catch me lacking, different than what you wanted

Like you fucking wished, dot com

Blew it up in your face, just like your mom

Looking like you got egg on your face

Got you cracked and scrambled

Cracked and scrambled

Cracked and scrambled

Leave you out like Truly, in the winter

Cold case