| I’m not in my right mind, and it’s nighttime
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| Higher than a Georgia pine, but it’s time to write rhymes
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| Shoot 'em through the pipeline to your partners in the public
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| Hopin' that they love it, fuck it if it has no subject, but
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| Some act like Uncle Ruckus don’t want niggas havin' nothin'
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| Like the only thing we like is fightin', shootin', stabbin', cuttin'
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| No, I have no nine-to-five, but I rap and sing at least
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| Now I cop a box of chicken, used to get a wing apiece
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| «Do you want your cornbread?» |
| Man, you better go on 'head
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| Aw, mane, anyone you can call? |
| «Shit, my phone dead»
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| Tone said in '89, time to do the wild thing
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| I’ll slang cow brain and serve it with chow mein
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| Cloudrains—I mean rainclouds over my head
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| What the fuck? |
| Don’t even know what I said
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| I’m just trippin', rappin', tippin', tappin', sippin', laughin'
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| Let me get that, bae, what’s happenin'?
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| What you doin', nigga? |
| Nothin' really, just chillin'
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| What you doin'? |
| Nothin' really, just chillin'
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| What you doin'? |
| Nothin' really, just chillin'
|
| What you doin'? |
| Nothin' really, just chillin'
|
| What you doin'? |
| Nothin' really, just chillin'
|
| What you doin'? |
| Nothin' really, just chillin'
|
| What you doin'? |
| Nothin' really, just chillin'
|
| What you doin'? |
| Nothin' really, just chillin'
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| Nothin' really, somethin' silly, groove to fill my album up
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| Smooth and witty, cool and chilly
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| Who that bitch that grabbed my nuts?
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| DJ, turn the music up, put a lil' more bass in it
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| Bandit got a hookah full of weed, I guess I’ll take a hit
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| For the sake of it, I’ll buy a whole bottle
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| Of Bud Light, and take a cold swallow
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| Go holla at my partners 'cause now everybody’s got it
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| That loud, that fire, that heat, that gas, that exotic
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| The Rockets, Astros, Arrows and Comets
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| All in Houston, flyin' high, just like I’m is
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| High as fuck, time is up, three o’clock, club close
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| Nothin' else poppin' but AKs, gauges and snub-nose
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| Rub toes with a gal later when we hit the sheets
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| Right after she break the weed down and I split the Sweet
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| Finally 'bout to get a piece, finna freak
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| Telephone rings, what the hell you want, mane?
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| What you doin', nigga? |
| Nothin' really, just chillin'
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| What you doin'? |
| Nothin' really, just chillin'
|
| What you doin'? |
| Nothin' really, just chillin'
|
| What you doin'? |
| Nothin' really, just chillin'
|
| What you doin'? |
| Nothin' really, just chillin'
|
| What you doin'? |
| Nothin' really, just chillin'
|
| What you doin'? |
| Nothin' really, just chillin'
|
| What you doin'? |
| Nothin' really, just chillin'
|
| Just chillin' |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Nothin' Really Just Chillin' , by - Devin the Dude. Song from the album Soulful Distance, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп