kumbaya! (feat. anklesfat) - chunga lyrics
[verse 1 – chunga]
i don’t need clout to get all my b-tches
and i don’t need rap to get all my money
a chunga boy rap and then i get both of ’em
haters i’m gon’ have to pull out a rope for ’em
56 diamonds on deck and i show for ’em
i need a b-tch that’s gon’ sit on my face
i need a b-tch that gets higher than space
backwoods i’m rollin’ that purple in ace
cashin’ the check u thought i was dry
my pockets they fly i ride for the fam
56 b-tches they know who i am
i’m ugly as f-ck but i’m rich as the d-mn
but i still get b-tches and that’s all that matters
i open yo b-tches legs up like a chapter
i sit on the bed and she gimme f-ll-t–
66 b-tches up under my basement bro
divin’ and divin’ that b-tch so wet she got my d-ck shinin
divin’ and deeper my people speak taco burrito
spanish b-tch vanishin’ y’all just mosquitoes
b-tches always be thinkin’ im gringo
i’m eatin’ pussy like mo f-ckin’ cheeto
ain’t from new jersey so i’m not a guido
i f-cked a b-tch off the d-mn weed and tequila
that pussy its sweeter the codeine is offset
i put tat on my d-ck it says caution
i dip in the pool but i’m already wet
i got b-tches out the back of the neck
helicopter d-ck in my resume
codeine got me lookin’ like meditate
ballin’ so hard that i coulda’ brought the harlem globetrotters to the motherf-ckin’ nba, b-tch
[bridge – anklesfat]
kumbaya (x3)
scr-pin’ the pot (x2)
kumbaya (x2)
ay i’m not ready mane
this…. right here….
(ball is live cuz i got 2 b-lls)
is what anxiety would sound like
if you could hear anxiety
(chunga on the beat)
(pew pew pew pew pew pew)
ready? i’m ready
[verse 2 – anklesfat]
ankles fatter so my life do not matter
cut the shit cut the cr-p and the chatter
i’ma take all these drugs and go up like a ladder
b-tches want me, put my d-ck in they throat
finger the pussy like money
finger that pussy she wrote its not murder she wrote
with the gang and they tote, put a hole in ya boat
cover him like a coat, tag, you it!, like a toe
ankles fatter and they swoll
f-ck up a sack get some mo
i get in, i get out, gotta go (gone)
i ain’t’ been sober in so (long)
pour out the water put lean in the bong
i got the tommy u could call me chong but that wouldn’t make sense
water wrist just like i gave it a rinse
boy im feelin like a prince ankles thick i guess my ankles immense
i remember being broke; past-tense
i used to think i was fresh like a mint
blowin doja in a room wit no vents
ice in my chain that’s a chain of events
godd-mn, turtle teen kow-a-bunga
32 shots if u disrespect chunga
had dope in my lungs since an ankle was young
plottin’ guap while u was suckin’ ya thumb
ran it up yeah, i run
do it, did it, and its done
she want me two/too
but that b-tch ain’t’ the one
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