Текст песни Rawlings - Chief Keef

BP on the beat!
Smokes, Glo! Blood gang man,
All folks know how we rockin man
Glo Gang or no gang man
Stupid blunts man, stupid kush
So motherfucking high right now man
Got all these eights,
Ion know where the fuck I'm at man, feel me?
All type of whips outside
M6's. all types of shit
Aye bally, (aye bally)
Aye aye, pass me the rolls (pass me the rolls)
Aye, so I can ball (so I can ball)
Bitches already know that we ballin (we ballin aye)
I'm at the Mardi Gras, in New Orleans
Choppas out, get them boys
Got them dogs out, dogs sniffing, sniffing
Runnin around your kitchen, where you're chilling
Send my locksmith at yo' door
Semi glock catch yo' folks
See they glo, we posted on the glo block with big ass poles
Brought the glo block out, no suburbs
In my mansion bitch, you never heard
Where it's at? you never know
Try to follow me, I'ma blow
I can be driving, still got the pipe
Be driving and I still ah take your life
Pull up on ya bitch I'm still taking flight
I'm off the tooka and I'm still getting high
And higher aye (Higher)
Waiting for the days to go by, and byer aye
Only thing that matter is the money aye
Wake up in the morning yawning aye, in the morning
Fucking hunnits, fucking thots
Fuck niggas, fuck up your party, up your party
Turn it to a pool party
In my 290
Catch you, nobody
Under him, aye, what is wrong with him? (all or nothing)
Cuz I'm bipolar
When he shooting, he shoot extra tho
Have yo pipe up, catch you, rawlings
Nigga we don't carry holsters
Riding with a interlapse, ain't got time for that chitter chat
Fuck nigga try and rob me get em back
This choppa break a niggas back