LEX PAIN - CHROME BERETTA lyrics

[Intro] (AV with that drip, ho) [Verse 1: void] Lil' boy better step up I been had the sauce so you ni**as better ketchup Stay with the strap, yeah, we hittin' from the chest up 6 deep with the gang on the low in a Tesla All black with a chrome Beretta Took his flow and I'm doin' it better In the cut, ain't no matter the weather Talkin' sh*t and I'm clutchin' the level [Verse 2: LEX PAIN] Pull out the choppa, it makin' him hiccup I get me a shiver, she su*kin' my dick up He talkin' that sh*t but he wishin' ran up Callin' up leg 'cause I need that Beretta Six deep, pull up with the pressure If lil' boy step up, he leave in a stretcher All black with interior leather Calm down, don't fu*k with a killer You ni**as, my ni**as is greater Gave her the tip, lil' shawty a waiter Ballin' out like I play for the Lakers On a roll, b*tch, I feel like a skater She wanted dick, so I told her I'd cater Had to snap, b*tch, I feel like a gator Had to snap couple rounds out the Glock Run up on me and I'm airin' the block Run up on me, you get shot in yo face Draggin' the body all over the state Just like some alcohol, you gettin' chased Hop out the Benz, I hop in a wraith Put on a techno beat, shawty she feelin' me Blowin' her back to the beat of the bass Kickin' ​her out, like I need space After she gone, the number erased [Bridge: void] Gang, gang, gang, gang, b*tch, I'm a killa Gang, gang, gang, gang, I go gorillas Gang, gang, gang, gang, yeah, it's a thrilla Gang, gang, gang, gang, a Caterpillar I keep the MAC on me, b*tches call me Steve Jobs This loud pack got me higher than the Greek gods I'm on the southside, shooters got the dead eyes We be stackin' bread high, we yo' fu*king demise [Verse 3: 1nonly] Said I be riding fu*kin' dirty, now these b*tches on my dick What the fu*k? What the fu*k? What the fu*k [?] They be talkin', "1nonly, how the fu*k you get so big?" Stack your money up and make it, holy fu*k, I'm getting rich I be in the whip dirty ticket, admit it You be countin' pennies, I be countin' all these digits Wake up by my fist so cold how it's written [?] [?] Like holy sh*t, like holy fu*k, I'm high as fu*k, I can't relax I got this money, got this money, [?] by the stack, broke b*tch [Verse 4: $atori Zoom] Glock, a bust down Thot, she bust down Hot, I fu*k now Stop, I nut now Watch the fu*k out Knock, I'm up now Shot, the bums down Rock, I'm punk now Milly rock, shine like I'm Johnny Dang, Dang, Dang Silly watch, I don't need a thing but a gang chain Iggy Pop with the punk rock, you a damn lame 55, but I run a hundred on the high way See that wocky got you loose Say it to ya face and then I say it in the booth Hey, huh, what? fu*k you b*tches, I'm the truth b*tch, I'm getting brain from ya main baby boo (Yuh, fu*k you too)