Lyrics Chit Chat - Token
Red
(Oh
my
God,
Ronny)
Sit
on
the
couch,
ho
Pimp
shit
intro
to
outro
Rich
and
I'm
shallow,
spit
like
thinkin'
I
might
choke
Drink
like
Cinco
de
Mayo
Tints
on
the
ride
home,
bitch
I've
been
tryna
hide
Pop
shit
like
Prince
or
a
Michael
All
white
whip,
it's
albino
By
no
means
I'ma
quit,
I'ma
die
on
top
Pop-pop
to
the
enemy
Shot
with
a
cop-cop
tendency
Hot
like
I
got-got
felony
Gotta
to
be
a
dog,
top,
top,
top
pedigree
Give
me
top-top
in
the
top-top
mezzanine
While
my
opener
on,
right-right
in
front
of
me
Gotta
fuck
three
for
the
night
to
be
fun
to
me
Swipe,
swipe,
check
the
price,
all
on
me
Homie
is
the
best,
strap
to
your
chest
like,
like
dungaree
Enemy,
I
hold
smoke,
bro
I'm
chim-chimney
I'm
Soho
living
but
I'm
homegrown
mentally
I'm
so-so
wise
that
the
homies
tryna
get
like
me
My
bro-bro
from
Brooklyn,
he
call
his
timbs
Timothy
A
boatload
of
women
like
we're
goin'
on
a
trip
Don't
trip
'cause
my
bro's
clip
so-so
finicky
The
slowmo
fuckin'
with
the
cold-cold
Hennessy
Put
me
at
peace
like
when
KC
and
JoJo
sing
to
me
"What
the
fuck?"
By
9:00
p.m.
I
need
a
possible
bitch
at
the
crib
(fuck)
Hop
up
in
the
sleigh
with
a
big
bag
of
gifts
(fuck)
I
don't
put
my
time
into
chitchat,
I'm
rich
(fuck)
Hop
up
in
a
sleigh
with
a
big
bag
of
gifts
(fuck)
Take
it
through
the
city
and
give
back
to
kids
(fuck)
When
she
get
to
toppin',
I
Big
Mac
the
bitch
(fuck)
I
don't
put
my
time
into
chitchat,
I'm
rich
Rich,
rich,
rich,
rich,
rich
She
fuck
like
a
celebrity
more
than
me,
uh-huh
I
gotta
repeat
if
she
freak-freak,
uh-huh
I
never
cheat-cheat
but
I
see
three
of
'em
T-T,
she
call
me
T,
I'm
the
boss
and
shit
Pray
to
that
motherfucker
like
it's
a
cross
and
shit
G,
Gs,
C,
Cs
all
on
her
bag
and
shit
Smack
that
ass,
now
it's
redder
than
some
MAGA
shit
Stuntin'
like
my
daddy
when
I'm
snappin'
at
the
mic
Trigger-happy,
kitty
catty
on
my
lap,
I
got
the
mice
Nice
fanny
pack,
I
got
a
couple
K,
and
that's
light
"Baby,
did
you
really
make
a
inde
milli?"
That's
right
All
the
women
pretty,
more
petty
than
that
Chameleon
with
everything
because
I
really
adapt
I
line
them
up
and
I'm
like
Kanye
and
50
in
the
Rolling
Stone
Head
to
head
to
head
to
head
to
head
to
head
to
head
Treat
the
homies
like
a
bread
knife,
break
bread
I
be
tryna
count
the
bread
'til
I'm
braindead
"Fresh,
so
clean,"
I
do
what
Andre
said
Baby,
I
ain't
from
Atlanta,
I
look
like
a
bank-head
Head
of
the
bank
offices
Credit
with
great
confidence
'Bouta
cop
the
presidential,
I
never
debate
politics
Henny,
I'm
eight
bottles
in
Baby,
I'm
faded,
take
me
to
bed
where
the
runway
model
is
Fuck,
what
time
is
it?
'Cause
"What
the
fuck?"
By
9:00
p.m.
I
need
a
possible
bitch
at
the
crib
(fuck)
Hop
up
in
the
sleigh
with
a
big
bag
of
gifts
(fuck)
I
don't
put
my
time
into
chitchat,
I'm
rich
(fuck)
Hop
up
in
a
sleigh
with
a
big
bag
of
gifts
(fuck)
Take
it
through
the
city
and
give
back
to
kids
(fuck)
When
she
get
to
toppin',
I
Big
Mac
the
bitch
(fuck)
I
don't
put
my
time
into
chitchat,
I'm
rich
Rich,
rich,
rich,
rich,
rich
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