Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Box Chevy, artist - Lil Keke. Album song Money Don’t Sleep, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 19.02.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: 7 Thirteen, Swishahouse
Song language: English
Box Chevy |
Okay, this how we ride |
Turn up! |
22s, 23s, 24s, 28s |
All chromes on the box Chevy |
I say down south we slam those (Chevy) |
That’s right, ole school on them 84s (Chevy) |
We look good and my Chevy mean (Chevy) |
I got my top off and I’m ridin clean (Chevy) |
22s, 23s, 24s, 28s |
I could be talkin bout rims, sports |
I could be talkin bout weight |
From the land with the skate |
On threes or fours |
No deposit, no conversation |
Drop it in the bank and then we straight |
It’s the Don and the king |
What you seenin is 713 |
Longevity, somethin that alot you niggas ain’t seen |
And you know my team |
Talk about more than just codin |
East Coast, West Coast |
Chicago, ATL, sippin I’ll lean |
I got 24 on this heavy plate |
Cocaine on that Chevrolet |
My leather red and my smoke grey |
Lord bless me with a better way |
These low pros don’t kill hoes |
I ain’t the G that I say |
I’ve been ridin aroun through H town |
And I love the place that I stay |
Ole shit with them new Lex |
Roof back, that coop black |
Bad bitch I go scoop that |
Still blowin that fruit pack |
My hood hot, my block here |
When the streets packed we come through |
My steak great, my cake straight |
I’m ole school, that’s somethin new |
Let’s go |
Me and in the Chevy |
Doin numbers, rims heavy |
Trunk jumpers |
Freezin, it’s silly |
Glass like dunkin |
Park her by the buildin |
Black and chrome bumper |
Them glistenin |
Red skin, pin stripes |
Got that thing looking right |
I’m feelin right, waffle up |
Paul George, game night |
All star, game tight |
Trophy on that ass nice |
It feels right, it feels right |
Ready |
My trap spot where my |
Gettin money, stackin money |
Laughin at these clown suckers |
Look at em, they actin funny |
These lames bummy and crummy |
Let em tell what they holdin |
I got highly on the mally |
And she rollin like she bowlin |
Talkin bye, fuckin suckin |
We side ways, won’t it |
She say she miss me |
It’s only been 5 days |
You know me |
My trap spot with my rap spot |
That box Chevy with that stash pot |
For that cash |
And that block hot |
Bran new Chevy Tao sit that thing up on em 20s |
Pull up at they Rupees |
Take my new bitch on a dinner date |
Say the rubber bandz gon cost a grip |
I bought em anyway |
Fillin my whip with petrol |
Smoke that west coast, hit that interstate |
Traffickin down 59 |
Pull me over I’m gon get time |
Fuck it though, I’m hustlin bro |
Betta get yours I’m gon get mine |
Ridin like them Houston niggas |
It’s crazy what slabs will do to niggas |
Have you feelin like you the shit |
And bitch you tryin to chose a nigga |
Get so much we crazy |
I know she just wanna flip my car |
You and her and her the only way you gon fuck a star |
Ridin like I’m poster dry |
Can’t tell that I’m a Texas boy |
She gon ride with me if she agree to get naked, boy |
Rollin roun in that Chevy |
Top down, blow brains |
With a bad bitch, who got a bad bitch |
And we out here, nigga back page |
when I poke out wide |
Green and white, caught you by surprise |
But it’s 713 over everythang |
And I thank you lord for these Chevys |