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im back - christ dillinger lyrics

[i just wanna go home]

yeah
uh huh

[this song is funded by stolen oil money]

yeah
yeah, yeah

(verse 1 : rxk nephew)
first thing i ask, “where the drugs at?”
lil’ b*tch like “neph’, where the love at?”
get off that bullsh*t, b*tch, dub that
drugs almost gone, had a heart attack (uh)
slipping with the glock, like i got parkinson’s
park sum’ like that round here, won’t walk again
he’ll drive a beamer like that for adrenaline
unc’ done walk 8 miles like eminem (yeah)
gucci store like “it’s him again?” (yeah)
walk in the liquor, b*tch, i’m
back to the drug store, i’m bent
[?] hit the curb and caught a flat (yeah)
i keep a b*tch like a spare tire
auntie said my crack taste like jambalaya
tell police these run flat tires
don’t go broke and n*ggas start crying
walk in the bank, they like “where you work at?”
crack rock record where i work at
and we not signed to empire
chain look like i signed to qz (for real)
chain look like i got a feature from yeat (yeah)
whole rap game move like wwe (yeah)
i got more pistols than pistol pete (yeah)
bout’ to get in the field, b*tch, with my cleats (yeah)
(verse 2: christ dillinger)
chain look like i signed to roc nation
unc’ hit the dope and he started shaking
i was marking cars like i [?]
i’m on more percs than a cancer patient
i walk in the [?]
my b*tch ass so fat i can’t see the thong
hop in the hummer, dope fiend said it’s the bomb
b*tch get turned on when she hear my song
right wrist look like a disco ball
yeah, neiman marcus, not shopping at the mall
[?] on my fit, put that sh*t on
wake up in the morning, [?]
i feel like s*xyy red, i’m f*cking out of town
in the club like yung joc, it’s going down
when i step in the club, b*tch, it’s going down
got a [?] for that man like james brown
[?], they got [?] and henny
when it come to bad b*tches, we got plenty
shop at neiman marcus, not jc penney
i was sellin’ bundles in the bathroom of denny’s
your whole tape trash, i don’t wanna hear it
when your music come out, i don’t wanna share it
chain so d*mn big, can’t hear what you sayin’
get up in the p*ssy and go super saiyan
[this song is great, i love it]

[d*mn, son, where’d you find this? in the trash?]

first thing i ask, “where the drugs at?”
lil’ b*tch like “neph’, where the love at?”
get off that bullsh*t, b*tch, dub that
drugs almost gone, had a heart attack
slipping with the glock, like i got parkinson’s
park sum’ like that round here, won’t walk again
he’ll drive a beamer like that for adrenaline
unc’ done walk 8 miles like eminem
gucci store like “it’s him again?”
walk in the liquor, b*tch, i’m
back to the drug store, i’m bent
[?] hit the curb and caught a flat
i keep a b*tch like a spare tire
auntie said my crack taste like jambalaya
tell police these run flat tires
don’t go broke and n*ggas start crying

crack rock record where i work at

- christ dillinger lyrics

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