Cinci (Freeverse) Lyrics

It's Chris and I'm slickest in the city now

Get this, Yeah, Yeah my women pretty, How

Intricate on livid shit

You're ignorant to getting this

Cause little Chris is bigger than most of these rappers into this

Picture this, Nickelback, Photograph

Smoke a nickel bag to myself then put the roller back

Hold her back

Cause she's running for me

Got a Kevlar vest cause you know a hater gunning for me

Can't touch this cause a hitter way too cunning for him

You ignore him, I ignore him

I implore him to quit it

To get it, No limits on the wicked shit that I did bitch

Sip Monster, Smoke ganja

Marijuana

For the mic rocker

Vodka

In my cup

Add some Sprite and lemon, Mix it up

Fix it up like my hitter Bob the Builder

Realer of the artists departed

Raleigh, I might be

Inches out of psyche

Rock Nikes or Vans

But I'll never drive that in a mini

Call me PowerPoint with the way I've been presenting

Never claimed cool, I spit ice cold

Running for the medal and I bolt like gold

And baby if you're listening then you know I love ya

BAE, Ain't another bitch above ya

And if you're not

Well, I don't know

Maybe you should be backstage at my show

Let's see, Bout a minute twenty four

That means I've got two twenty three more

Double up on Jordan as I get it on the floor

Get it on the court or pick a door, I'd say pick more

But only one's safe, The others have Printz, Neil and CJ

Replay the shit, You didn't understand

Fuck with me then you're a really silly man

Death wish, Death Note, Let me write you down

Right next to the spiders and the motherfucking clowns

I run Cinci, Yeah you know that's a fact

Like the Flying Pig Marathon, Homie look at that

Scribble in my notebook like I'm doodling in class

Stand up and this bitch'll start oogling at my ass

My name fucking sucks cause when you're Googling my ass

A college coach comes up, It's not cool that I'm in last

Spit it on feet first, Where's my motherfucking features

And the creatures of the night scared to bite me cause I'm ill

Give a zombie gingervitis then I go and pop a pill

Miley got me sweating, Not the molly cause she's hot

Just let her grow her hair back and quit being a thot

A lot to this

A lot to spit

A botanist

A lot to this

The way I'm going, Way I'm going, Way I'm fooling around on a song

Hit her wrong, Get her wrong, Get her wrong

Didgeridoo, Kick it with you, Kid who is you

Yeah, I have grammar, Don't apply to poetry

No, I'm not retarded, Whip it out and blow a tree

Get drunk, She pet the trunk, That's usually how it go

Elephant brpt, Then I squirt like go

Nope

Stop

Fucking octagon

Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, Dress like Spider-Man at Comic-Con

Shooting webs like Chris

Shout out to Webster

Can't get it like him

Pain for pleasure

Edgar Allan Poe shit

Deadly when I flow this

Muhammad Ali

Like a bee when I float bitch

Bout a minute left as I'm running down the clock

Licking on my lolly, Yeah, That's slang for my cock

Bach, I'm classical

So fantastical

Suck a testicle

Rock a festival

I'm a crisis like [redacted] threatens to be

Haven't hit me yet, Are you messing with me

Can I get in trouble for rapping that line

I guess I'll find out in a matter of time

Killing everybody

Jack the Ripper, Chug a Miller

Light vanilla kush up

Push up

Upper body, What Bougatti, What Audi

La-di-da-di, That body be rocking and got me all popping around

On the ground with the sound