Lyrics We Be Gettin' Chips - Funk Flex

We Be Gettin' Chips

We be on our shit
ByrdGang we make it hot for the summer
We put the coke on any block that we wanna
We be on our shit
We gettin' fly gettin' high offa nothin
Baby you ain’t tryina do nothin' so why is you bluffin
We be on our shit
Know how it feels when you up in the pen
If I could start over I’d do it again
We be on our shit
Gang green gettin' money, ByrdGang gettin money
Dipset gettin money
I be fly as a mothafucka
Fitted to the back
Shades on feelin myself
High as a mothafucka
Ridin with my brotha
He packin the nine n we cruisin up 8th ave we ain’t ridin through Rucker
Nigga fuck what you talkin bout, Biggavel is for real
N you was good in the hood before Biggavel had a deal
Used to give you couple of dollas
10 maybe 20 cash pimpin poppin my colla 18 with a money stash
Niggas is open, Jimmy they ridin my way
Pop the burner and let these bullets go round in your brain
On the streets with steady poppin
I can kick with the quickness
Seeker sprayin the bitch shit I can make this shit look prolific
You ain’t fuckin' with kid, I tell you many times
If you need some material, I sell you many rhymes
Struttin up dirty ghetto with plenty shine
Niggas can have the block the city is mine
From Harlem to the G’s it’s like one-stop shopping
You could be shootin' the breeze when them guns start popping
Whole fight break out
I been waitin' all day for the night to break out
Let’s stop the dice game
Let blue and whites break out
And lay it back down to watch the dice shake out
DT parked you know the lights they stakin out
It’s like cops and robbers
You better watch the spotters
They hoppin out Impalas and they’ll knock you for a colla
No exceptions in the gutter
Beef you gettin gun havin' sex you get your rubber
We ballin hard nothin but lead at the buzzer
I know life’s a bitch but it’s better if you love her
Live fast die young is the mottos these days
So I’m whippin fast gettin drunk full throttle on the freeway
Some say it’s scary the way I’m speedin through life
As I’m singing Hail Mary as I breeze through the night
Max B:
Nigga we heavy in the city
See me bustin off the Ruger my man’s he got the glitz
Gotta keep your eye on the team, I be pluggin me foes
Nigga I’m M.O.B.
I ain’t lovin these hoes
Know them niggas ridin a five I fucks with them Diablos
With the coco for cheaper, cause I fucks with Pablo
Them niggas got it made
Hit the back door nigga the feds is tryina raid
Jim Jones:
Blasted off the liquor
Comin through your town fed snappin all them pictures
They tryina' catch up with these niggas
I’m out on bail but excursion all the paper
Harlem how we do it
We got convertibles in flavors
Homies out in Brooklyn they told me murders on the way up
Ridin that five goin out with a bang
Livin that night life
Nigga showin' up with my gang
Bang bang now let your nuts hang