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checkers (chucky) - glokk40spaz lyrics

[intro]
whoa, you so p*ssy, y’all so p*ssy, we ain’t stuntin’
(on the way)

[verse]
whoa, yeah, yeah, mobb
what’s yo’ choice, you want that pressure?
be on 10, n*gga, i’m gon’ k!ll the one who sent that message
just caught that n*gga talkin’ crazy on the gram, that give me leverage
his b*tch got good head, she suck my d*ck and drink my nut like beverage
put a .30 on a glock 19, and i call that hoe the devil
huh, i ain’t gotta say nun’ to these p*ssy ass n*ggas, my momma even know i’m a rebel
you ain’t doin’ this sh*t, n*ggas not even on the same level
glock hittin’ sh*t just like aaron smeltzer

[verse 2]
yah, get that feeling, go do k!llin’s, i get wicked, with that glizzy
stock so bad, kickback so filthy
f*ck that boy, kickback, go drill him
know that b*tch mad that it’s switchin’
should of known when i was locked up, she was f*ckin’ up my head and i can’t feel it
whoa told me he caught another d*mn hat and i got jiggy
i don’t pick and choose the opps, if we gon’ whack one, let’s go get ’em
whoa said he want this hat this time, then n*gga, i’an trippin’
i’m just sayin’, boy, get back this time, this muhf*cka hit so deadly
i ain’t playin’ with these n*ggas, i shoot this glock, and i’m not lucky
got this mac on me, this metal arm, that boy call me lil’ bucky
i get mad when they treat me like a ragdoll, i cut they face like chucky
n*gga playin’ with bl, his ass gon’ die, i k!ll a n*gga, talkin’ ’bout stuffin’
she jus’ wanna smoke my joy, this b*tch a junkie
4 man down, swish cheese, they call hoe “smell, fungus’
they try lil’ glokk, b*tch i’m gon’ pop, i ain’t playin’, b*tch, i’m top bunkie
put a hole in his stomach, like a donut, ain’t talkin’ ’bout dunkin’
[verse 3]
i get swifty with this glizzy, i be actin’ up
i ain’ gon’ lie, sometimes i really don’t give a f*ck
i get by, just to get high, i fell in love with drugs
look at this size of this glock .40, b*tch i won’t knuckle up
huh, smack that b*tch with my d*ck, i told the b*tch “pucker up”
you ain’t got no stamp, or you not srt, f*ck boy, you can’t hang with us
don’t f*ck with us ’cause they p*ssy, and they know lil’ glokk so dangerous
i be dolo with a big stick in my bag, n*gga won’t go for nun’
i get ratchet when i pop out, i was locked up for six months
b*tch, i’m psyched out, and i’m throwed, he play with me, i bust him up
i’ma rich young b*st*rd, b*tch, these chrome heart cut’s
all my feelings in my nut’s, i put my d*ck all in her guts
it’s egyptian serial codes on this bl!ck, for king tut
i up this glock on this b*tch, too, boy, i don’t give no f*ck
talm ’bout the mobb, i do that job, he talm ’bout he throwed, that bih get cut
all these hoes, they all fanned out, and be f*ckin’, these hoes some sl*ts

- glokk40spaz lyrics

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