| Y’all don’t even trip
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| They can’t see me in my shit
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| Man, you see me when I whip
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| The low breezies with the tints
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| Magnifique with the French
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| , but I don’t really keep that shit
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| Girl get your ass in it or I’ll
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| And you know that, roll it in a roll map
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| If you don’t know how to roll that
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| I’m stash cash and it brings me till I raise the roof up
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| If she got them Vici Secret’s she gon' get
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| I don’t fuck with niggas, but get rich off niggas call me Colonel Sanders
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| If you need my whip call it Bernie Sanders
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| Pop that pussy if it’s hot then drop that pussy, what
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| If baby girl about it dawg I knock that pussy, what
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| I’m tryna tell you what it is, ‘fore I do you wrong
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| Then I’ma tell you what it is, call it Google Chrome
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| And being broke is something E don’t do
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| That’s why I always hear «AE I-O-U»
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| She’ll never get her vowed up, no «I do»
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| And I’m always going in nigga, no drive through
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| No Kreezus, fresh out the box
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| This is
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| Chasin' the sun halfway to another million
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| Trapped door floors, chandelier ceilings
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| Bitch you running with the dealers
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| Three piece wheel less, parked out front, they gotta feel this
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| Dressed out, still geared up
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| When I arrive bitches cry like I die
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| Fresh to death or what, you decide
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| Suck a nigga with that new design
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| I wasn’t
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| Picked up checks, hella times
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| Bathing Ape Lookbook 2005
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| Busy works bees getting waxed in the hive
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| I been in the
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| High on trees, climb top, look at me, can’t stop ‘em
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| Can’t cop it, one to one, and shed it when I dropped it
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| Smoked out in the tropics, send your girl to cop me boxes
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| Got a lot of for an hour, and then I shower
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| In a direction of them dollars, I’m all about it
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| Came to get money, won’t leave without it
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| Outside we got them low riders hoppin'
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| Laid them fat raps, got swollen pockets
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| And in the magazines printed all about it
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| Live life, get high, change the world, do it all man before you go
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| In Europe riding Europeans so it’s not a foreigner
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| They like show me the moves, no time for a tutorial
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| It’s levels to the game, like who put this shit on story mode
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| His story historical
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| Mr. Anderson I know Sway ain’t got the answers so I’m looking for the oracle
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| All my favorite rappers told me life’s a bitch, so I’ma fuck the world through
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| the glory hole
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| So that bitch can’t take me to the Maury show
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| If she don’t smoke weed, pop pills, suck dick
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| If it’s one thing that I hate, man it’s boring hoes
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| All my girls love me, so if I die today it’d be like 5,011 some freaks at the
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| memorial, bitch
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| Got a couple screws loose
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| Still in a winner’s circle, you just tryna get off in a loop, fruit, loop
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| Turned nothing into two, something into new
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| I could write a bestseller outta alphabet soup
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| Came up nigga yeah that’s all we do
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| The world is in my palms, I’m a fucking
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| Girl on my arm, she in love with my charm but
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| She can’t hold my hand no, even if she palm read
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| First time I met Oprah, boy that was motivation
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| Went from standing in course, to starting up a corporation
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| All my hoes rated R, all your hoes overrated
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| And I fuck ‘em just cause, still no relations, bitch call me
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| Yeah, and we got LeBron back
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| I’m doing the Johnny Manziel he’ll never sign no contract
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| Cause I’m bound to no noun, no person, place or thing
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| Could ever percolate no king, I’m in a circle with these rings
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| I call Donald Sterling up and said I’m back and proud
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| She said I’m mixed, I say would you mix with black and mild
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| Bitch bad but she looking for a favor
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| She working bottle service hope a nigga come save her
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| I just and snap a photo
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| She said «Ooh, was this Malibu» all I could say was «No hoe»
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| All I need is two blunts and a bottle water
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| Need my bitch to be a queen not a daughter
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| Bitches with their own cribs offer me a
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| you know I get them cause I got them
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| looking like somebody shot them
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| East side of Cleveland take your life without no problem
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| Ballin', we all got a little bit of Pac in us
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| You racists I respect you more if you just wore your swastikas
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| Keep it twerking, I’m a rapper and a person
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| You can tell how I keep smoking, keep cursing
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| I’m with Mike Tyson, eating a sandwich
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| And my bands hella thick, check the bandwidth
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| Cause the DJ came back up and like the backwood
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| Eating good, bitch I’m living good cause I rap good |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Fat Raps 3 , by - King Chip. Song from the album CleveLAfornia, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп