Lyrics Crazy - Wiz Khalifa, Chevy Woods

Crazy

10−4, am I coming through clear?
Just give me about a month or two
And I’ll be right there
Trying to avoid police in riot gear
Heavyweight cash and you just a light, yeah
I got a Buzz that’s with no light, year
You couldn’t even walk in these shoes right here
And you acting like you don’t see all this
Like «aw shit!
Look at his stones they flawless»
And the bitch that I’m with She gorgeous
I see your giant money, mine’s enormous
Don’t even trip, when I’m out I be very gone
My pockets fat like the
Head on Barry Bonds.
You sit and chill
Stack it up for a rainy day, a nigga
Like me gotta pay to play.
When I was
Getting it minor they didn’t have shit to say
Now they scream cause I get it in a major way
I see your hands on my paper right
I tell em hold on
She see all this and wanna stay the night
Haven’t felt like this in so long
She said she wanna ride with a G
So hop up in my passenger, girl
And we could be gone — don’t ask yourself
Cause you’re not
Taylor stripes like Adidas
So these girls go wild like Mardis Gras
All my pimp shit so my pink show
When I’m sippin slow.
High chance
That those people coming, so I’m getting low
They all talk, they getting dull
Who cooking the pie?
Sweet
Potato on the tre eight, you living to die
On some OG Bobby Johnson, South Central shit
Nigga tell me who you really fuckin with?
It’s the bread man, cash top
Dead man, from the city where you need a
Bulletproof headband, go go Gadget
The money’s stretching long
Cash in plastic cause I get it on
What you flick?
That’s diamond Zig Zag money
And what I get?
Can’t fit it in the bag, dummy
Don’t ask yourself, cause you’re not
EZ Wider twisting, easy Prada slip-ins
Niggas tellin' me I look like Eazy
Probably cause it’s easy for em
I’m bobbin and weaving on em, Ali and Foreman
All of my niggas ballin, got TGOD across em
Money counting, my dollars got no creases on em
My weed is awesome, paid the cost
Now they calling me the boss man
«You should be more like Khalifa»
That’s what their boss saying
But they ain’t out of style
These niggas off-brand
Off land, 30,000 feet up rolling weed up
Trying to kill a track I told Jones
So we cut the beat up
These niggas ain’t heard the best of me
Say she a fan, her nigga thinks she wants me sexually
Ho, get your man!
I’m out here
Getting this, spinning this, spitting
The illest shit you ever heard in your life
Thinking to yourself «short be killing shit»
Nigga, I murder it twice!
My money is right!
And when my champagne come, they serve it on ice
This the life!