Chase Moore - Bigg K Team BackPack Verse lyrics

[Intro] Y'all good?..Alright, look... [Verse] If you ain't ready to die then don't try that Blind-folded I shoot the wing off a fly bat I pa** the weed to your b**h like "try that!" Put this bomb in your chest like Cyrax You running round with a highball penny-pinching I'm out the spits cooking hardball, semi-gripping They feel a difference in talent as soon as we get to spitting They throwing rusty beach cruisers at a Hemi engine (Right?) And I'm clicking on all cylinders I built it from the house of Reggie Miller and the Deligne Nowadays I tec-9-mac-milly ya Red dot, leg shot, cracked fibula I break bones, get chased home, ate chrome When it graze domes, skin-heads like Grace Jones Bet I get it cheaper than reefer or yay homes I been in the streets since beepers and pay-phones But now these rappers wearing blouses with the funny pants I should knock you the f** out and do the Shmoney dance I need a crib full of b**hes like the Bunny Ranch Fake tits that take dick till they stomach cramp Oh you 'bout that life? That's what they all say... You in the building then I'm hanging out the hallway That home-invasion sh**, banging out in broad day I set a city on fire like Pompeii! I'm off an eight of that gas, a shot of Bombay Cussing out the camera-man like Kanye I got it from the dope game we ain't parlay My man threw me a P we took the long way And names don't weigh enough to call 'em out But false rappers - where I'm from - I'm all that counts Just know the streets talking : you should watch your mouth You who they talkin' to... This what they takin' 'bout