| Yeah
|
| Uh-huh
|
| Uh
|
| That pussy fire, get the flame thrower
|
| Wetter than the rainstorm
|
| Fuck her with my chains on
|
| Uh
|
| Right
|
| Uh
|
| Uh
|
| That pussy fire, get the flame thrower
|
| Wetter than the rainstorm
|
| Fuck her with my chains on
|
| Uh, rich nigga etiquette
|
| Redirect, dead a bitch
|
| Nah, I ain’t rob, got no sick fetishes
|
| Game inherited, hella lit
|
| Genesis, levisist
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| No matter the season or what the weather is
|
| Derelicts, urban terrorists exposed, too delicate
|
| Fightin' some demons, fired my therapist
|
| Hell if it’s hot, hell if it’s not
|
| America’s stone lyricist
|
| They gon' cherish this
|
| Marathon gold medalist
|
| I’m still here, blog sites crash, look, I’m still here
|
| Weed wrap done, look, I’m still here
|
| Ready, enable, fuck, get the deal cleared, no ill will there
|
| Block posted with my young boys, ain’t no real chill there
|
| Steady pacin' through the bullshit, rockin' out cyeah
|
| Big.44, call it Austin Croshere
|
| Just gettin' started, we be rockin' all year
|
| Locked in all year, she talkin' mouth, I’m all ears
|
| Yeah
|
| Yeah
|
| Uh-huh
|
| Right
|
| That pussy fire, get the flame thrower
|
| Wetter than the rainstorm
|
| Fuck her with my chains on
|
| Uh
|
| Right
|
| Uh
|
| Right
|
| That pussy fire, get the flame thrower
|
| Wetter than the rainstorm
|
| Fuck her with my chains on
|
| Yeah
|
| Yo, I snatch the blunt up out of Satan’s mouth
|
| I tell my bank to make accounts
|
| I tend to turn to crime, it’s time to rake that cake, I’m out
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| My side bitch gettin' complacent, had to cut her off
|
| I had my young boy rip his face out like that butter soft
|
| You think that it was so white
|
| Ruined the first ones, I told my mother to get more plates
|
| This shit real, back when Nelly was makin' «Tip Drill»
|
| I figured out I get four-eighty off of six pills
|
| A revelation, contemplatin', should I get him killed?
|
| The past the past, that reminiscin' don’t mean shit, for real
|
| I’m puffin' grass, hopin' the homie make it on a pill
|
| My bitch from the A look like Vivica in Kill Bill
|
| Yeah, know I got trust issues, don’t need tissues, I got pistols for that
|
| Have ya BM blow me down while I count up me a stack
|
| Motherfuckers actin' tough for niggas, know that they rats
|
| If it’s ever really problems, niggas know where we at
|
| Yeah, so
|
| Yeah
|
| Pussy
|
| Uh-huh
|
| So
|
| Right
|
| That pussy fire, get the flame thrower
|
| Wetter than the rainstorm
|
| Fuck her with my chains on
|
| Uh
|
| Right
|
| Uh
|
| Right
|
| That pussy fire, get the flame thrower
|
| Wetter than the rainstorm
|
| Fuck her with my chains on |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Chaining Day , by - Smoke DZA. Song from the album Prime Location, Vol. 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп