Favorite Song

Chance The Rapper

  • 																					Chance, acid rapper, soccer, hacky sacker
    Cocky khaki jacket jacker
    Slap-happy faggot slapper
    Iraqi rocket launcher
    Shake that Laffy Taffy, jolly raunchy rapper
    Dang, dang, dang - skeet, skeet, skeet
    She do that thing for three retweets
    The album feel like '92
    Then take that bomb for Heat, three-peat
    Chance, ho, I said, cruising on that Lsd
    Ask yourself about my deal
    You'll go batshit - "hell yeah, let's eat! "

    This shit my favorite song, you just don't know the words
    But I still fuck with you, you just ain't never heard
    It go like: count that stack, pop that cap then down that Jack
    All my niggas hit that zan, and all my ladies 'bout that bag
    This my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam
    I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam
    I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam
    This my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam
    I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam
    I'm 'bout that jam, I'm bout that jam

    Young Rascal Flatts - young ass kid ass could rap
    Fuck all the faculty, tobacco-packing acrobat
    Back-to-back packin' bags back and forth with fifths of Jack
    Enforce the weed, I'm back to pack on hands
    With young Cletus to pat my back
    Real nigga with a nose ring, that's right
    Just here to rap them songs
    Rag on my hair wrap, weed in Vegas, rockin' Vagabonds
    Sang a song, oh you don't know? What?
    Well, I still bang with you
    Hang with you, sip drank with you
    As long as I can sang with you like

    Niggas please be focused - that 'Bino, you know this
    He rep the home of Sosas, you know I'm from that Zone 6
    You know I rep that Stone shit, you know your 'hood is so clit
    As God as my witness, this Will Smith spit real shit
    I'm a be that - Cg busy gettin', where the weed at?
    Bought your girl some new kneepads
    You're fuckin' with the Fifi bag
    My stars, egad, she said: "this my favorite song"
    "Hold my purse" - now she on the floor, droppin' like it's hot
    You blast this shit in Abercrombie
    When your work is finished
    Your mom won't play it in the car cause it's got cursing in it
    Your boy like: "I'm the one who showed you
    "he want his percentage
    Cause you were like
    "this ain't the nigga you said spittin', is it? "
    Two-step - white dude's Harlem Shake
    Why you laughing? Cause you Harlem Shake?
    I was never fake, I was just too good to be true
    That's acid rap, we killed the track
    You had your chance, and 'Bino too

Letra enviada por rafael

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