Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Chill, artist - Nelly. Album song Brass Knuckles, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Universal Music
Song language: English
Chill |
Yo, what you tell a motherfucker with two black eyes? |
Nothing, you did already tell his punk-ass twice |
D, E, R, R, T, Y |
We all we got, yo, know I want y’all do? |
Yo. |
Ey yo stand at attention, raise your right arm, salute |
Roll the carpet out, watch all the Bloods «woo-woo» |
Watch the Crips loke it up, we back, we got our focus up |
St. Lunatics, nigga know that, know that |
Supreme the team, if we lose you open your minds |
Start readin some things, we got it, holla at us, come on |
Easy with that «murder, murder, murder, kill, kill» |
We did that back when I was born, real, real |
But I still do the knowledge, let me give you the math |
I rock a 7-and-a-half on my 7-and-a-half |
I be with Moses and Kane and Abel putting in work |
I slap a nun, beat the reverend up and spit in his church |
My Derrty niggas come through, we turn the heat up in June |
We at the party macking, even throw our bitch in the room |
Menage-a-trois,? |
Cause we the baddest motherfuckers that you seen thus far |
(So) Nigga chill (chill) calm down (calm down) |
Watch your words (watch your words) don’t let your mouth get ahead of you |
You really talking wreckless right now (right now) |
And we know you ain’t built for that (nope) |
Look, learn, listen, check it |
Start your cars up, trick your broads up |
Pump your hard up, homie now put your guard up |
You throw that one-two but, look how I jab you |
No need you run in the derrty, homie I had to |
You was doin a lot of talkin, yup, a lot of barkin |
But your bite was nothin, guess you might’ve been fronting |
Yo ain’t no mic to it, City see right through it |
I was born to be the shit like I was Mike Hewitt |
Don’t, test me though, homie I might do it |
Check my track record, the flow that’ll go right to it |
It was easy for me, I was born to win |
You was born to hate me, you should be born again |
You with Mike and Kevin, we with Law and them |
You cop American cars, we cop foreign 'em |
Take a look at us derrty, we put the star in them |
No slow stray bullets nigga, we Brett Favre-ing them |
You gots to chill, and let your conscience be free |
Lil' boy, obviously y’all ain’t fuckin with Ky' |
You see I stays real high, but I be as low-key |
I’m so allergic to the line errybody know me |
You know what? |
(What?) Why shouldn’t y’all hate? |
Cause y’all so half decent, we Frosted Flakes great |
And these ain’t came out yet, I know y’all so late |
I smoke zips, you pop 8's, damn what a waste |
My lady is so happy, yours masturbates |
You wash up in a sink, nigga I bathe in a lake |
The way y’all copy our style ASCAP should make y’all pay |
But they don’t, so I’ma smoke a joint and get to the point |
The muhfuckin point is keep my name out your mouth |
Unless you saying how we repped the Lou, since we came out |
We’ve been winners since we came out, yo' mouth keep my name out |
You don’t wanna see thirty cardinal birds with their thangs out |
Murphy Lee God-body (like) take shit from nobody (nope) |
Nelly bought it for me so that’s my Maserati (yup) |
Y’all know about me, I’m so far from sloppy (dirty) |
You not a female, nigga, so how can you top me? |
My style can’t be copied people trust me (trust me) |
Even though you look like me, your flow musty (musty) |
That means you stinkins, what you think’s extinct |
Been gone too long to even dig up the bones |
I’m on my new-new, upgrade the kush from the doo-doo |
That’s a big step, but that’s how niggas from the Lou do |
Last rap was too cool, but this one is too damn hot |
You wack rappers think you hot when you not (this is why I’m hot) |
All this I talk slick shit as if you really did shit |
Thinking you deserve my spot, well thurr it is then |
Gave niggas time but now I’m back with a few of my friends |
Lunatics about to do this again, ohh |
Uh, tell you something… |
You should see their faces when I walk in the facility |
Mean mug, what’s the purpose of you ice-grillin me? |
You’re killin me but really B, you ain’t on my radar |
Always used the right amount of strokes, that’s why I stayed par |
I ain’t no killer lil' silly nigga but they are |
You got the same ride as me but that’s just my day car |
My decor, might be Levi’s and a A-R |
15 G’s in my pocket just to play cards |
So meet me in the casino, way in the back |
Me and her fleein the scene, away in the 'llac |
She say she feelin her bean, a green double stack |
She say she like it obscene, I’m way into that |
In fact, you niggas ain’t like me, you salty (nah) |
Me, I’m like pepper cause I spice shit up |
The Flavor Flav of the game cause I hype shit up |
Might call my hundred watt niggas in to light shit up |
You better chill |