Lyrics Chill Shit - MarcoMoney

Lately i been on some chill shit
For all this fake shit in the world you need a real bitch
Most days i wake up and feel like herb i wanna kill shit
Banana clip hanging off that chop it's gon peel skin
I done took a million L's how the hell did i still win
7 shots coming out that steel feel like big Ben
I miss my pops we used to ride around the block in the big Benz
This a new glock just took it out the box and it's the 5th gen

Aye uh all my guns horny
Every single pistol got a dick
Don't run up on me that's a warning
33 up in my heat on my seat Alonzo Mourning
Bitches talkin like they freaks until we meet
And then they boring
I am not a P I M P
But bitches pay me like they hoeing
I was taught to leave it in the streets
It's like snitching if you postin
Niggas always cappin in they raps
Then they mad i don't support em
Like how in every song you got a strap
But up in person you be loafin
(The fuck that don't make no sense)
My bitch think i'm cheating i'm at the studio recording
Niggas sneak dissing ion pay attention i ignore it
Fuck around and hit them niggas wit two uzi's Chuck Norris
Fuckin wit the opps you better duck with them like you in Oregon
Nowadays if you ain't talkin bout no pape it ain't important
Nowadays you gotta watch out for them snakes they in your garden
Backpack boyz i just rolled some Blue Tomyz shit blowin
Even if i'm fucked up i won't ask for nun
Call of duty guns customize em now they pack a punched
I remember eating free at school i ain't pack no lunch
I remember giving everything and they ain't give me nun
Why the fuck this bitch just tell me that she love me only seen me once
Chrome heart hoody wear it twice now that shit is done
Yeah we blood but you tried to fuck my bitch i almost smoked my cuz
But it's all love you throwin salt up on my name i'll hit you wit a slug
Fuck a nine to five i get paid off the distro kid
They don't even know the nigga that died but they dissin him
Dead stock kicks but the blick got extended clip
Any problems bout Jada and the Smithin Will be fixing it
Treat the piece like the mothafucka cheat ima dump this bitch
How you meef but it took you all week just to punch some shit
Ima put some double C's on my bitches feet like she sixty crip
High all the time i just rolled up two quarters like i'm 50 cent
Sippin wockhardt but my heart really don't exist
He don't even got no car but in his bars he be parking shit
Thought that nigga was my dawg i cut him off cause he just bark at shit
I ain't never in my feelings i be chillin like i'm Nardo Wick