Chris Jones - Bliss lyrics

[Verse 1: Chris Jone$] What's the word sometimes I got to ask it My flows make you dance if you trynna do a backflip Uh, What you lackin' is the formal art of rappin' You got me crackin' up, where's the chapstick? It's magic when I hit the scene, doors open and I feel the vibe You can't look me in the face? Man, I feel a lie I take regrets and I seal them in an envelope You saying you the best, im type nice, and you kind of dope This is art, this is opera at its greatest You can't drop a mixtape and still claim that you made it Cause' other n***as f**ing up, got to keep your duckets up Money stacking to the tip top, with this hip hop When my sh** drop, I must cop me a wrist watch Keep your lips locked, my sh** popping and his not Know I can't let, my destiny get the best of me The esectame I spit, eventually could pin a referee What I spit real, extreme illness I Gotta go hard so my children could feel this And im still in it for the luxury and millions Right now, I gotta write down, bout' my lifestyle n***a pipe down and let a king rock the mic' now Tell me what you doing, achieving could take believing Im seeing it while im dreaming and what im speakin ether Im chasing cheese, these n***as after my pizza Rock my sneakers, you better watch what you speak of If you talking sh** bout' Jones, you better speak up Credit visa, im too busy making bank trips, ain't shi n***as too busy saying "I hate Riffs" Gotta love it, what we lack, is weak raps Make your green stack, that cheap chat, is feedback Haha, Jones, Chris Jones, Riffs Uh, shoutout my n***as man, word, Cezbeats