Champagne & IPAs ft. FAUSTOE Lyrics

All these rappers extra dry, I'ma hit em with the champagne

Khern$ be taking off you can catch me in the fast lane

Click click pull

I'm the shooter with the trash aim

That always hit his mark

Triple double in his last game

Uh

Got the game on padlock

Y'all ain't runnin' shit

Y'all ain't even on the blacktop

Me and FAUSTOE chillin'

Setting fire to the laptop

Slap em with some Big ass Sevens

That's a Jackpot

Stash spot, Make sure you knock twice before entering

Pouring out my sins out to these pages

What do I regret

Did I hit it twice you bet I did

You'll never make it out alive

Like Fentanyl laced with Ritalin

I ain't playing kid

This shit is detrimental to your mental

Pick a level

Ain't no skipping these phases

Rocking stages, Heavy metal

Closed caskets for those who lacking

Mando pistol packin

Lyrical bullets flying at you without causing static

Without causing static we tuning in

Keep the levels coming like my bitches when I put it in

When we pull up it's a party you see movin' in

I ain't judging nothin'

But whatever type of shoes she in

Uh

There's a difference

Y'all be playing games

All we worried 'bout is business

Y'all be on that shit

We be profiting in minutes

If we talkin' bout the style

Then I'm sure you prolly finished

Leave no witness keep your distance

Avoid the cameras by any means

When you flee the scene

Bars of soap too clean

You see us spit like Listerine

Homie please

I ain't the type to play no fuckery

Check the status we operating like an apparatus

Stackin' cabbage

You could've had it but you fuckin' lacking

Quick to cappin

I'm riding waves like a fucking captain

Hard to manage

You wouldn't sustain my mathematics

Fuckin' madness

With the mathematics

Big Khern$ in the hood

I'm a fast mechanic

Fixin' up the fuckin' books

I'ma have it crackin

Big checks

Big looks

Big after glances

Make it rain

Big avalanches

Uh

Ain't no thing I ain't good at

Except for being broke

There's no way I can do that

So-Cal shit

Smoking herb with the hood rats

Unless we making bread

Then we headed where the crew at

Where the brew at

Champagnes and IPAs to celebrate another paid day

Keep these fake lames and these lazy fucks up out my way

I'm SevenDayz steady making plays like cuttin' the cake

Into SevenWayz in order for the fam to sustain

I don't complain

I lost three of my brothers

Shit was tragic

Felt the pain

Eliminated friendly foes and hoes

It's all the same

I'm steady droppin' classics

With these pictures that I paint

Man quit playing

With the pictures that I paint up

You should just call me Van Gogh

I'm greedy with the dough

I'm constantly cashing pass go

One hundred up in cash

One hundred more on the dashboard

I never went to class

But now I can teach a crash course

I smack whores

Go do your chores

Don't come here no more

I ain't keeping score

Shootin' your shot

We'll have you popped in less than Twenty-Four

I can't afford to waste my time

Like I was going poor

Fuck you take me for

Fuck you take me for

Five, six, seven, eight

I keep a mental score

Plus I don't need to take a break

I let the liquor pour

Just don't let me catch you slippin' in my shit no more

I handle business at the liquor store

Meet me 'round the corner of Woodley

I got the loose leaf

A two-piece

For hating groupies who be acting boujie

I knew he

Wasn't really widdit by how he moving

Replacing decimals for hoes

Man that shit is goofy

Bitch I'm the Two-Three

So pay attention

Married to the game and she wanna show affection

I be on the court

You still looking for your section

Y'all ain't want the smoke

You should find another session

So in conclusion we ain't choosing

What you suckas doing

Don't include us in conversations

If the bread ain't moving

Congruent

My two cents fluent

Don't ask how we do it

If you really looked at it close

You would've prolly knew it

Leaving the bottle of Cliquot on ice

Pop it tonight

Junts rolled tight

Smoking Sunday Delight on Friday night

You ain't my type

Cut from a different cloth

So you know we nothing alike

FAUSTOE and KHERN$ on the same beat

That's a scary sight, Mothafuckas yah