Mr. Chow

Lyrics

[Intro] (Damjonboi) [Verse 1: G.T.] Ayy, I was a young nigga servin' out the Days Inn I'm like forty thousand in, it's like day ten I had to sit and chill, get this shit in order Runnin' through a half-slab, watchin' Law & Order Fuck what niggas talkin', all that shit boring That batch hit like blue magic, it's from 'cross the border Bust it out the duct tape, let 'em taste it for us Soon as they say it's grade A, we start takin' orders Fuck all that bubblegum rap shit Fuck with us, we can make that money do a backflip The game fucked up, but we up here still sellin' I'm 'bout to touch down, I turned around and start backpedalin' Play dumb and you'll leave with a cracked mallet Brand-new Forgiatos, thousand wires floatin' up the 7 You ain't no supplier, you just grabbin' a middleman They say this shit gettin' hot, but we still gon' mail it Jumpin' off the jet with 'bout a hundred in my backpack The drop came with the pilot seats, I just lay back You think this bitch just an old-school, but it beat 'Cats A thousand horses, I just hit the pedal and this bitch scratch [Chorus: G.T.] Ayy, yeah, bitch How could we ever be fucked up, for real, nigga? Think about it Jumpin' in them big body whips when we leave the house We used to bust 'scripts, take zips way up to the mountains Fuck the whole club up and leave up out it Everybody brung a strap with us, we don't need no bouncers Be broke, nigga, what? How do you allow it? Cipriani eight days straight, now I miss the trap [Verse 2: Peezy] How the fuck you niggas still broke? Man, that's crazy I wasn't brought up like you niggas, I can't lie, you boys lazy It ain't hard to get some pape', grab a skizzy and a wrap Spin your wrist and make it lock, turn a split into an eighthy Tell the kids to go outside, it's too much rizzy on the town Racks runnin' through the counter, fiends smokin' in the basement Don't no rats run in my family, only crackheads and gangsters Had some workers turnt to bosses and some niggas that'll spank you Give my coyo credits 'til the first, he said thank you Free my cousin, he can't move, he got a tether on his ankle How the fuck can we go broke? I'm just thinkin' If rap fail, we can still go out of town and get paper, nigga (Real talk, facts) [Chorus: G.T.] Ayy, yeah, bitch How could we ever be fucked up, for real, nigga? Think about it Jumpin' in them big body whips when we leave the house We used to bust 'scripts, take zips way up to the mountains Fuck the whole club up and leave up out it Everybody brung a strap with us, we don't need no bouncers Be broke, nigga, what? How do you allow it? Cipriani eight days straight, now I miss the trap