Print

[Intro/Outro:] Them nigga who was popping Just ain't got it no mo The UnderDogs done stole the show [Hook:] I'm fresh off the bench, in the game I'm bout to shit on these niggas and leave a stain Make sure they know what's up Make sure they know my name The times done changed, shit ain't the same [Verse 1:] The nigga with too many odds against still prevails Dog I had bad luck since I was twelve It's about time that shit starts to wear off I'm on deck If you ain't hip to Chip Well dog that's your loss, I'm all set When we get high, we do it to survive Not to seem cool, gotta massage the mind I'm not tryna play y'all game I go by my own rules Effortless and extra fresh You had your time, you old news SongtexteIf magazines don't write about Chip They showing how out of the loop they is They dumbasses, but masses Don't wanna here all that stupid shit People decide who the shit I really do this shit If you thought I was a freshman Then you must never been to my crib We living it up, but they say life not fair Gs in my hood Spent they whole life right there Meanwhile we in Amsterdam Cannabis Cup, We vaporizing Passport stamped up Hope your brain is synchronizing [Hook] [Verse 2:] We road tripping in that Benz Bumping that Big L shit So many blunts is already rolled And so many blunts is already lit Word I got no Ls and no insurance And there go the police Damn, looks like they coming for us Life is tough I got endurance No complaints from me at all I just rode the bench And kept it humble Now I gotta ball I'm a modern day Jim Brown Touchdown for six points Post game celebration Then I make my dick point At yo bitch, then insert Then she scream, Then she squirt Then she dip, and she bout to be Two hours late from work I don't pay these hoes, of course No emotion, no remorse Cause if I wasn't doing this Then my life would be way much worse No hoes, no clothes, no cars, no shows Used to work at Taco Bell Got my first check, and then I quit And told them go to hell Spazmatic, Assmatic Fuck you I could do no wrong Where them hoes, pack the bongs Let this real shit live on [Hook] [Verse 3:] Yo them niggas who was cool Just ain't cool no mo The UnderDogs done stole the show My niggas copped the fully loaded Porsche truck for the low That shit was like copping a pair of tennis shoes We could go I got that crib on the lake Red leather couches Everything recline And we ain't got no roaches I'm moving on up, them girls wanna fuck They way we living you would probably think I made this up Bitch I'm off in the cut I don't say too much I observe, puff the herb I'm not giving a fuck Bout what you got to say Cause we live up everyday You niggas tryna keep in touch I think that shit is gay Study yourself Get your own Be the realest Live by logic and reasons And not by emotions and feelings Vaporizer we get high Pretty close to them ceilings I'm forty-foot ceilings I'm tryna make a killing [Hook] [Intro/Outro] Aus Songtexte Mania