Zip That Chop That Songtext

von Black Hippy

Ring the alarm or wake to a bomb
You ain't a rapper you Elton John, holding your john
I got a ton of croutons in the Louis Vuitton
That's big bread the chickens are flying flocks when I call 'em
Paul and Masson, half drunk, stuck in a poem
Light matches underwater while I'm bracing the storm
I'm cool and I'm calm, Laid back smoking a farm
Socking the shit out of niggas 'til I'm breaking my arm
Up in my zone, two blunts, cup of patron
.45 on me, shoot you if you fuck with me wrong
Pause, that's your life and it's going
To flat line if you don't put your life in the song
I never drove a fast car
I almost ran over Tracy Chapman, she said drive slow, I said fuck off
Ab-Soul wassup y'all other than your sub par above all?
I'm a heaven gate, above all
And every time we in the stu
We cook that, chop that, what's that, that's crack
Yeah homie this is what we do
3-1-0 shit, 3-2-3 bitch
Nigga welcome to the zoo
Cook that, chop that, what's that, that's crack
Yeah homie this is what we do
3-2-3 shit, 3-1-0 bitch
The Black Hippies, the bag full, the bag empty
So bump it all at the car lot, then crash quickly
I'm trying to come with enough power to pass 50
I'm talking 50 bills, you niggas don't fit the bill
You niggas don't keep it real,
You fake as Pamela's titties
I pound kitties
Then hit the club with dogs with me
Tan Polo's, no socks, chop Dickies
Tan coupe, no top, bumping Biggie
Blowing sticky, before the group, been a hippy
Nifty fifty,
All blue, real crippy
Big money, long stocks, ask Pippy
Mask on, one sock, I get busy
I smoke blacks, relax and watch Walt Disney
Puff squares pace in circles until I'm dizzy
Speaking of Disney, fantasies I had many
I used to hate on Mickey Mouse cause he had Minnie
Napped through my final
Made enough, richer than Lionel
Fucking bitches on my job, cumming harder than a rhino
Breaking their spinal, laid back, bumping my vinyl
Navigation on the scopes, easy to find 'em
Find you and I'm right behind you, laid back, puffing a blunt
Gat on my lap, constantly talking shit I'mma dump
Your homies acting charged up, they can still get jumped
Ash the kush for all you punks
However you want, whenever you want, you all can get it
Contagious, it's mad syphilis,
Blazing its God-giftedness
Die over death sentences
Flow hot plus the beat knock
Tell them I killed the witnesses
Gifted as twenty Christmases,
Itching to blow
Like twenty bitches with mouths that need a dick in it
I ran rap for half a mile then got tired
Laid down and realized that I was lying