Retch - Life (Chopped & Screwed) lyrics

[Intro] Yeah, yeah Yeah, this The Chayce, baby [Verse 1] Life, what the f** that Somebody tell me, can I get a f**ing answer please? Get on my hands and knees and pray to some immortal being That don't even f**ing exist but that's what you supposed to Thought I'd acknowledge it, I am quite the opposite Marijuana politics, ain't with all the godly Piff-piff, I've built a tolerance, only smoke the finest sh** Promise that I'd give you a st-dack if you could find this Po-Polo down, designer fit, [?] Illuminati sh** Back and forth, Papi sh**, you won't get the half of Brit-British egg, ménagin' chicks, faces while she toppin' it See right through her when my dick in her esopha- [Interlude] Ha ha, f** around with these n***as Listen, ugh, yo [Verse 2] That um-umbrella over ya head when it's a rainy Hey-hey, buddy, what ya say? Think it's gonna rain to- I ain't, I ain't puffing haze today, save that for another Prepar-preparing for another winter, this one here another winter Shell toe type of n***a, slow text type of Fig-figure, "Why write her, n***a?" Like you if she like you It's all, it's all about perspective, why I'm well respected Most of what's suggested has never been object- There I, there I go, using that n-word, never say "never" That's insanity, never [?] All 'bout my cheddar but gotta stay clear of the rats It's like ancient Europe, how the f** I'm 'posed to that-that? 'Specially when they disguised as your friends Vanilla skies, no roof on the Benz, and we cruis- Bad b**h behind the wheel, making manuev- Ba-baby girl a trooper, gate-way drug abus- Cook-cook, f** and clean, type of sh** I could get used Make-make her a** holler in the morning like a roost- But I'm, but I'm more rasta, favorite color green Fiend for money and the ganja, everybody singin' Like the motherf**ing opera, take that sh** to Oprah n***a, your R&B days is over, what the f**? Bu-bu-burning holes in your f**ing sofa The bear on my sweater ain't polar n***a, Po-Polo, skip on the lo- This-this here for grown folk f** the rest of the beat, this sh** slow-mo [Outro] It's quiet, H'z