| I burned too many Brain Cells down
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| To be worried bout my Brain Cells Now
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| Here’s a tab of acid for your ear
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| You’re the plastic, I’m the passion and the magic in the air
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| The flabbergasted avalanche of ambulances near
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| The labyrinth of Pan’s Lab is adamantly here
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| No assignments, book of rhyming and I’m drawing doodles
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| I should rhyme rhyme with Ramen Noodles
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| Ramadan, I’m the don of the diamond jewels
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| Fond of finding a way to kindly tell these toddlers toodles
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| I’m a kamikaze and I’m a kinda cuckoo
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| I could write a fucking book, non kamasutral
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| You niggas goofies since a conflict that is kinda crucial
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| Caught you on the 9 in all blue yelling I’m a neutral
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| But I’m a let the bull pass like matadors
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| Versus a Minotaur
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| Verse is a metaphor
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| A metamorphoses and I’m a fuckin animorph
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| I used to go to school with Anna Fedele &Danny Whorf
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| Remember I used to bang with bad ones
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| 'Til my grandmama told on her grandson
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| Mama said that I was way too handsome
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| To be throwing the hand’s son"
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| Breaking Walls like Samson
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| But I’m a throw a tantrum
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| 'Til I’m on Every Samsung
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| Sanyo, and Handheld and Handgun
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| Please Put ya lighter’s up
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| 'Til life is up
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| And light it up
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| And slice a cut
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| The night is young
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| It’s nice enough
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| The nicest blunt
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| The nicest stuff
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| My niggas out here trapping a lot
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| I know you think you on
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| Hiding Reggie sacks in your socks
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| I hang with niggas, whole jab in the jock
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| .4's for 15, yea my niggas we be taxing a lot
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| Only to goofies tho, choking on a doobie though
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| My eyes do be low, two be rolled
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| Remember days of the Rufio
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| Remember the Days of Chan-Man and the Skeeter Man
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| Brrrang Dang to Lil' B
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| And Bang a Rang to Peter Pan
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| Light a joint
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| Or spliff it if you classy
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| Split a swisha witcha nigga
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| If you ask me
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| Ain’t no questions hit it vividly and pass me
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| Don’t answer about your problems
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| Or your issues or your Ashleys
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| It’s a quarter to imminent, ten minutes to infinite
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| Rims, Henny, and reminisce
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| Nostalgia and M&M's
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| Cinnamon tone women and
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| Feminine’s getting intimate
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| All broads is frivolous
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| Homies could get they dividends
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| Damn, is he illiterate, literal syndicate
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| Illegitimate, idiot, gangbanger affiliate
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| Sick twisted prick, sick sadistic son of a biscuit
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| Man fuck this shit |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Brain Cells , by - Chance The Rapper. Song from the album 10 Day, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп