Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Chains, artist - Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire. Album song Kismet, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 23.06.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Chocolate Rabbit
Song language: English
Chains |
Fuck your chains |
Want no motherfucking chains |
They got my nigga Los in fucking chains |
Things’ll never be the same |
Motherfucking chains |
They brought us over here in fucking chains |
You think we had enough of fucking chains |
So fuck that, fuck them chains |
The years Mandela sat in that cell, and couldn’t get no justice |
The bourgeoisiest of bitches be the quickest to suck dick |
Southern comfort, articulate ruffian |
Drunk walkin' on the platform of Broadway junction, nuts |
Self-destructive vacuum I’m stuck in |
Wonder if my woman know the baggage I come with |
Demons in my past are fucking disgusting |
One look in they eye and she would fucking vomit |
Ill, I’m running from my destiny |
Terrified when people see the best in me |
Same shit I obsessed to be, I guess I’m, sorta afraid to be |
My insecurities are changing me, down to my reality is breaking me |
I can’t take the pressure, can’t take the pain, I… |
Motherfucking chains |
I dont' want no motherfucking chains |
They got my nigga Los in fucking chains |
Things’ll never be the same |
Motherfucking chains |
They brought us over here in fucking chains |
You think we had enough of fucking chains |
Sometimes I feel like my brain’s in chains |
So fuck that, run yo' chain |
I got a bone to pick with this fucking Porky-fist snitch |
Talkin' like the 40 don’t stick to my dick |
Sippin' Henny as I reminisce |
My nigga bumpin' to that Lox and that Biggie shit |
Punch a hole right through ya, ice cold like coolers |
Gangster with a sense of humor and hurt heads like tumors |
It’s the return of the ruler, takin' out of town spots |
In the buildin' pumpin' crack and stash packs by the cable box |
Somebody shot in my hood, shit hot, but I ain’t goin' nowhere, nigga |
It’s money here |
Tell the Ds, chase me up the stairs |
I don’t fuckin' care |
I’m on the grind for 9 days, I ain’t comb my hair |
I’m on my grustle, my grind and my hustle |
A face to the pillow when I fuck her |
The 8 to the pillow when I bust ya |
Suffer, if life don’t love you |
Niggas like you and I don’t stand together |
I’m cut from a different cloth, I’m a whole 'nother texture |
I’m fuckin' solid, no stripes, no plaids |
I just gotta, pet the cheese and catch you niggas in the trap |
Fuckin' rats, what you see, consider it sacred |
Stick to the G code, that’s thug motivation |
Fuckin' up my concentration, created a situation |
My whole fam cryin' when the jury deliberated |
Cause of that punk ass statement but fuck it |
Them niggas pussy with a G spot |
Point my gun, look me in my eyes, I want screenshots |
Only time the beef stop is when your heartbeat stop |
Get toes to the floor, stay the fuck up off your knees, ock |
Forget me, not, I’m black history, nigga |
So when I die, you gonna remember me, nigga |
Put me in chapters in the textbook, posin' with my best look |
Neat with the right, sloppy with the left hook |
Respect the jukes, respect that shit |
Fo sho |
Free my motherfucking nigga though, man |
Shoutout my nigga JO |
Big Mo, Las |
The whole fuckin' First? |
man, what’s up man |
Free my nigga Craze, too |
Hold your head, joo |
Free my nigga Gaye, L |
Shoutout my nigga Shizz, Creamo |
What’s up, pop pop |