Yvng Xylo - Chanel lyrics

All my young ni**as on hot sh*t Talkin out yo neck get yo mom hit 012 babies on da blocc wit da chopsticks Fucc round getcho ass mopsticked All my gangstas hardbody we on sh*t Caught a opp lackin left his top split Get a call from da guys n we on it All my ni**as goin up we ain’t fallin Out doin bad see my fam callin I’m not 24 but call me Kobe I’m ballin Matter of fact I’m shooting like Scotty pippen Balenciaga n Gucci da whole team drippin Bacc when on da blocc wit da dime bags flippin Jus speaking facts in dis beat dat we rippin A ni**a cross me I ain’t even trippin Jus call up da guys n leave yo ass twisted Way back trading tray 5s for the dub new J's on my feet when I walk in da club Call it Thanksgiving cuz I left yo b*tch stuffed All these thots on me but I can't show em no love She thought I loved her but I guess she outta luck I whip out the strap this ain't no bluff My trigger finger itchin cause the opps better duck I'm up on my grind stacking this bread up Focused on da money Keep my heart locked up Off da drink ice cubes fallin in da double cup if we see 12 then we gotta do da dash the only time we running is running to da cash i run in yo crib all black ski mask if a ni**a actin funny up da pipe on his ass got yo b*tch off the bottle and she tryna smash Came out da gutter wit da gang it’s how we roccin ni**as hoppin off da porch n runnin befo we walkin We can’t cut da sh*t the not ever stopping cut a couple ni**as out da flicc wit no croppin One day dey yo bro, next day dey flip floppin pushin by myself get a new mazi to hop in go to da Louis store not stress ab da shoppin living off my dreams while you ni**as in bk stuck moppin gold up in my teeth n lv supreme on my belt Picc shorty up in the kickbacc at da hotel up so high you can’t even tell a ni**a fell I once was broke but now y’all can’t even tell Growin up wit da members dat sh*t a living hell We couldn’t catch a W till we learned to take our Ls Free all my ni**as stuck inna cell we writing our own life n got a story to tell Buy all the sh*t that i want give af bout a tag I aint chasin no b*tch im chasin a bag f*ck all them opps them ni**as sum feds We dont f*ck with thots cause that sh*t be dead We not worried bout beef we worried bout bread all my goons bleed blue we don't bleed red talkin out yo neck we'll fill you with lead Im at yo hoe crib she got them legs spread I'm poppin that pussy while I'm poppin the xans Roll up inna stoley new glock in my pants made y'all b*tch ramen like we in japan dont f*ck wit you ni**as just fu*kin with the bands come f*ck wit these bands oh wait ni**a you can't get off the jet b*tches scream when i land ran off wit a zips and sold it by the gram You know I hit hella licks back then when i was ten