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for the leg - flee lord & chase fetti lyrics

[verse 1: flee lord]
ya i met her on the two train uptown back when i was on my raw game
headphones listening to kanye, lips like kelly rowland, hips like yoncé
sweatsuit and waverunners my diva for like eight summers, straight stunner
dripping steak eating like we hate hunger
rock away, broad walk, chopper and some ?
send it in a bag incase them stupid n*ggas want chalk
nikes in the city, sipping white living gritty
this the life of a hustler and my wife with the sh*ts
bonnies and my clyde ain’t no homi’s getting tried
and i don’t do the clubs unless mami get inside
f*ck around with flee and you f*cking with my lord, eh
they searched but they don’t peep the heat inside her corset
coming home to place like my momma set the table
? so clean, bout to sign her to the label

[verse 2: chase fetti]
put a brick in my b*tch purse, and i don’t count the money, give that sh*t to my b*tch first
don’t fix it if it work, shorty gone hold it down
i ain’t talking gas when i tell you she blow the pound
told her bout the kitchen, now she cook she be throwing down
im talking whole plates, its a blessing say i’m great
amen, my b*tch riding with a strap like some g*y friends
only time we play the bag is when we play benz
or play bens n*gga, i send em with the 50 clip we break ends n*gga
yeah, we the modern day bonnie and clyde, only thing i know for sure though is that mami gone ride
mami gone ease all my pain and f*ck me outta my mind
keep all the change she ain’t dropping a dime, thats my down b*tch
i tell her slow down shorty down shift
i made her my queen cause that crown fit

- flee lord chase fetti lyrics

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