King Chip – Fat Raps 3 Lyrics (feat. Chuck Inglish, Earlly Mac, Curren$Y & Big Sean)

[Verse 1: Chuck Inglish]
Y’all don’t even trip
They can’t see me in my shit
Man, you see me when I whip
The low breezies with the tints
Magnifique with the French [?]
[?], but I don’t really keep that shit
Girl get your ass in it or I’ll [?]
And you know that, roll it in a roll map
If you don’t know how to roll that

[Verse 2: Earlly Mac]
I’m stash cash and it brings me till I raise the roof up
If she got them Vici Secret’s she gon’ get [?]
I don’t f**k with niggas, but get rich off niggas call me Colonel Sanders
If you need my whip [?] call it Bernie Sanders
Pop that pussy if it’s hot then drop that pussy, what
If baby girl about it dawg I knock that pussy, what
I’m tryna tell you what it is, ‘fore I do you wrong
Then I’ma tell you what it is, call it Google Chrome
And being broke is something E don’t do
That’s why I always hear “AE I-O-U”
She’ll never get her vowed up, no “I do”
And I’m always going in nigga, no drive through

[Verse 3: Curren$y]
No Kreezus, fresh out the box
This is [?]
Chasin’ the sun halfway to another million
Trapped door floors, chandelier ceilings
Bitch you running with the dealers
Three piece wheel less, parked out front, they gotta feel this
Dressed out, still geared up
When I arrive bitches cry like I die
Fresh to death or what, you decide
Suck a nigga with that new design
I wasn’t [?]
Picked up checks, hella times
Bathing Ape Lookbook 2005
Busy works bees getting waxed in the hive
I been in the [?]
High on trees, climb top, look at me, can’t stop ‘em
Can’t cop it, one to one, and shed it when I dropped it
Smoked out in the tropics, send your girl to cop me boxes
Got a lot of for an hour, and then I shower
In a direction of them dollars, I’m all about it
Came to get money, won’t leave without it
Outside we got them low riders hoppin’
Laid them fat raps, got swollen pockets
And in the magazines printed all about it

[Verse 4: Big Sean]
Live life, get high, change the world, do it all man before you go
In Europe riding Europeans so it’s not a foreigner
They like show me the moves, no time for a tutorial
It’s levels to the game, like who put this shit on story mode
His story historical
Mr. Anderson I know Sway ain’t got the answers so I’m looking for the oracle
All my favorite rappers told me life’s a bitch, so I’ma f**k the world through the glory hole
So that bitch can’t take me to the Maury show
If she don’t smoke weed, pop pills, suck dick
If it’s one thing that I hate, man it’s boring hoes
All my girls love me, so if I die today it’d be like 5,011 some freaks at the memorial, bitch
Got a couple screws loose
Still in a winner’s circle, you just tryna get off in a loop, fruit, loop
Turned nothing into two, something into new
I could write a bestseller outta alphabet soup
Came up nigga yeah that’s all we do
The world is in my palms, I’m a f**king [need palm trees?]
Girl on my arm, she in love with my charm but
She can’t hold my hand no, even if she palm read
First time I met Oprah, boy that was motivation
Went from standing in course, to starting up a corporation
All my hoes rated R, all your hoes overrated
And I f**k ‘em just cause, still no relations, bitch call me

[Verse 5: King Chip]
Yeah, and we got LeBron back
I’m doing the Johnny Manziel he’ll never sign no contract
Cause I’m bound to no noun, no person, place or thing
Could ever percolate no king, I’m in a circle with these rings
I call Donald Sterling up and said I’m back and proud
She said I’m mixed, I say would you mix with black and mild
Bitch bad but she looking for a favor
She working bottle service hope a nigga come save her
I just [?] and snap a photo
She said “Ooh, was this Malibu” all I could say was “No hoe”
All I need is two blunts and a bottle water
Need my bitch to be a queen not a daughter
Bitches with their own cribs offer me a [?]
[?] you know I get them cause I got them
[?] looking like somebody shot them
East side of Cleveland take your life without no problem
Ballin’, we all got a little bit of Pac in us
You racists I respect you more if you just wore your swastikas
Keep it twerking, I’m a rapper and a person
You can tell how I keep smoking, keep cursing
I’m with Mike Tyson, eating a sandwich
And my bands hella thick, check the bandwidth
Cause the DJ came back up and like the backwood
Eating good, bitch I’m living good cause I rap good

The Cool Kids – 9:5PM (feat. Jeremih)

[The Cool Kids:]
You was gettin your hair whipped for the weekend
You fresh off work and just got paid
I only inch a line at the right time
Baby tell me what’s your sign, if you like
Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Aries, Scorpio, and Capricorn
Are you a Libra, Aquarius or Sagittarius, tryna get that accent on woh
You need a drink? Said I need to get you a cup
You want a ring? You said he ain’t give you one
You tell em I can’t stand a brokeass man you and your best friends swap your clothes
And all my niggas say "I can’t stand these brokeass hoes
All they do is wear chokers and charge their phones"
And if the Trump campaign can run these states then this shit finna break it I can’t wait
Where are my ladies? In me!
In me mama, Y 3 mama, Gucci mama, Mariani mama, Imma, imma

Lookin at the time, I see it’s quarter past 9
I feel it, I gotta get down with you

[The Cool Kids:]
Smooth like butter on silk with milk
A stove with the burner on tilt and it’s hot
Like a spicy ass pepper and a ghost habanero
Rockin gold like a pharaoh shorty bought a ream I tear up
What you find, what’s your sign, do we match
On the floor, running man, cabbage patch
Hit the rocks, grabbin on em backwards
She’s just tryna guess my password
DJ runnin back hundred racks bet in black
I see you tryna work it out want a lap on a track
It’s lookin right in the wrong way
Be alone jogging past Craig in the driveway
Fine. Damn. I need another ham
Pick it up, pick it up, yeah there’s been a change of plans
Quarter past nine, think nickel past a dime, we ain’t talkin half dollers put it in a money counter

Lookin at the time, I see it’s quarter past 9
I feel it, I gotta get down with you

[The Cool Kids:]
Hey, a shiny knight um, I be that for ya
Talkin nights off, come here, can ya
I’m mixin my drums, straight up
I play your favorite song, I hope this is it
Where the talk on, then a text, I missed ya
It ain’t no fun if it ain’t on yo playlist
Talkin Jeremih, Mikey Box, Chuck Inglish, we gone

I gotta get down with you
I gotta get down with you