Yung Bleu – Chrome Heart Lyrics

0 2 minutes read

I heard some **** want to kill me they ain’t spin yet
Fuck I look like beefing he ain’t made 20 mil yet
And I ain’t even post the pictures on my last check
I probably fuck a **** sister on this big ass jet
Fuck a feature I want money, power, and respect
I got my bitches in my phone getting neglected
My main mission is to get all the opp hoes pregnant
Then make their kids kill their step daddy, fuck em (yeah)
I’m in the block spot some bitches I ain’t even fucked
Before you open your mouth about a **** clean your pussy up
Humble ass **** used to feel like I ain’t good enough
We robbing the robbers them shooter don’t even drill enough
Told him spin the block one more time you ain’t kill enough
And I got twin 50s on the bitch you get titty fucked
My lil youngin in here with a street sweeper clean the city up
Go and ask and I told em you send em boys we gone send em up

Got my money up I feeling like the shit right now
Lookin’ like I just served a brick right now
I pay for it fuck you and your clique right now
Bitch we do this all the time pipe down
Oh yeah, Ring around the rosie why you in the nosebleeds?
Girl you with a rich *** now
And I could put you on them floor seats
Long as you hold me
Long as you can hold me down

I get this feeling in my stomach when I’m thinking about you
I hope you feel it when I’m coming cause I’m cumming inside you
I put my trust in you just like I put my trust in the bible
Think I finesse you out some money they would never survive
How the fuck I’ma let a **** be my master
**** you don’t even know your masters
I’m a big billy goat I ain’t never been a cattle
It’s the principle little **** I’ma hit you with that paddle
Brrr and they scatter
If it’s anything I’m loyal to a fault
How the fuck you scared of turning another **** to a boss
I’m in this Maybach like I signed a deal with Ross
The smallest things turn me off I tell my driver drop me off, fuck it

Yeah the key to stacking money just don’t spend it til you get it
The key to life don’t speak on the dead speak to the living
Keep the Christmas lights cause everyday it feels like Christmas
Two cookie cutters for a **** sliding down my chimney
I’ve been smart, I’ve been wise, I’ve been with it
So its hard to go against me
Ain’t no cereal number or no tags on them switches
Better get your man or you’ll be history
Yeah
I put you first class on the private
Put a bad bitch on the private (you what the fuck going on here)
On the private

Yeah, you know I talk my shit
How you playin with them dope boys, yeah
How you playin with them lil boys