Lyrics:
Yup, yup, yup, yup, yup, yup
Yup, yup, yup, yup, yup, yup
I came from the bottom of the bottom, I ain't never goin' back
Got my head to the sky
baby!
I love women so much, I have one,
Luda!
Chris breezy, this too easy,
Sg what up!
[Trina]
Icy blue rocks on my arm I shop at Malone for Louie Vinton
The diamond diva miss Cinderella, Versace gown by Donna Tella
And can't none
them how to run up bag on snapchat
At the age of ten, Chris wanted to front, the whole sack
Don't believe me, ask Felicia, boy, this shit, no cap
First
a pot
Niggas be laughing
No funny Chris Rock
Flow too cold and block too hot
Sneakers too fake and
They came with the shots
This bitch got a beam
You see
Yea
Crazy Chris
Young Cortez
Switched Up
They say I switched up
Cuz I'm not the same anymore
Well that's for sure
Cuz I'm living for the Lord
They
as Minnesota, Jewlery box a Great Lake[00:41.49]Mayday, Chris Paul, throw it up, I'm Blake[00:43.10]To walk in my red bottoms, do you know what it
a six pack baby, I'm a captain of the crunch (Workout)
Just got to the bars, I'm already drunk (I'm drunk!)
I gotta get home, mars here I come
My fate
Ks Iss time to slide on em
Took big fella out the game you know I’m
Dying on em
Lately baby, Murda Murda on my mind only!
Do a jumpin jack up
do I entertain y'all with my disrespect?
Respectfully (Great John on the beat, by the way)
Lil Nas X gon' catch AIDS and die like Eazy-E (he is)
Aliyah, but baby I can rock the boat
To the coast, just sit on my lap
And then she knew that this was a trap
I'm gonna pull you over
Pull you under
to rock, YOU!
We're the kings of swing
And we're chosen to rule
The deans of clean inside the cool school
We're the chiefs of relief
Contained by wild
don't mean to brag, I don't mean to boast,
But we like hot butter on our breakfast toast
Rock it up, Baby Bubba!
Baby Bubba to the boogie da bang bang
the smack, Chris Rock with the crack
Then forgot of his dream, Guy Fisher was back
All you wannabe thugs, rock your corpse in the club
Niggas wanted
bitch we comin real fast
What we got here, we gon' make this shit last
Rockin with nineteen till the fuckin end
Young boy, but I have to be a man
Chris do
Influenced by a TRU nigga ain't no fear in death
Breather life nigga I spit it until my last breath
V I S I O N morherfucking plug
This the Finest Music thug
Yeah
Yeah
Young, young, young Gunna, yeah
(Run that back Turbo)
Baby
Sold out dates, cash every day
I got you Hermés, I light up Blu-rays
of you
Baby
Can you keep up with my tempo?
We rock
We roll
We ride to the tempo
We rock
We roll
We ride to the tempo
Peep
By myself I'm the band
I
hit the top
Speakers on repeat the city on lock
Just a little motivation let it rock
Who knew
Who knew
Who knew
Who knew
When you hit rock bottom aint
thinkin bout you baby
Could you be my one and only lady
(cuz there's no better love)
[VERSE 3]
[Neef + Young Chris rappin']
We the youngest in charge
So
DJ Khaled
DJ Terror Squad
And he goes by the name of
You got the right one, it's Weezy fuckin' baby
And if your woman lookin', I'll let
baby!
I love women so much, I have one,
Luda!
Chris breezy, this too easy,
Sg what up!
a hundred and one years old
I don't mean to brag, I don't mean to boast
But we like hot butter on our breakfast toast
Rock it out, a-Baby Bubba
Baby Bubba
Yeah, Chris Lowe
(Okay, it's Fort Knox; Chuck Chillout - let's go)
[Verse One: Chris Lowe]
I'm in line to see the club rock
Fly shorties all
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