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chicken run 2 - team eastside lil p lyrics

[verse 1 ?]
hating on me, still get your b*tch f*cked
[?] next summer come in benz trucks
gary payton 20, you n*ggas still smoking fake runts
my lil b*tch, she use her mouth, she don’t say much
n*ggas g*y, i make more big plays than slay
all my b*tches slay, all my n*ggas bust the k
b*tch, i’m master p, ain’t no limit with this pape
sold dimes, i made a way, push [?] out of state

[verse 2 ?]
yeah off white the kicks, n*gga, off white the fit
how ironic, ’cause a n*gga off white [?]
selling [?] b*tch that [?] like a [?]
i don’t trust dawg, ’cause he talk like the pigs
i ain’t have no choice, i had to run it up
thumbing through the hundred, looking like i’m ’bout to bust a nut
this presidential on, but i don’t f*ck with donald trump
got a l!ck [?] is you down or what?

[verse 3: icewear vezzo]
sh*t gucci, like i f*ck around with pump
gеt your p*ssy ass shot up, tryna f*ck around and front
smoking pain, i might f*ck around with runts
n*ggas calling me for drank, he gon’ f*ck around, get cut
told that b*tch that i can’t f*ck without no mеdison
we gon’ pour it up, don’t give a f*ck about your measurements
ghetto boy, but i’m f*cking round with [?]
p*ssy n*gga dissing, we gon’ f*ck around and dammage him
by [?] before he exiting
roley on my arm, this b*tch light up like it’s edison
[verse 4 ?]
when it come to whipping work, i’m a motherf*cking veteran
they pat a n*gga down, but i still got that metal in
we can slide down, you know what’s up with me
i’ll f*ck your sister and your cousin, ain’t no cuffing me
walked out [?] i’m with the f*ckery
i run off on my cousin, ain’t no love in me
yellow trackhalk, black feet, it’s a bumble bee
[?] p like [?] throwing up the b
buffs on my face, i’m a crip, i support the c
b*tch sucked the calone off my d*ck, power of [?]

[verse 5: icewear vezzo]
watch me power up
i’ll wet a p*ssy n*gga crib for an hour up
i just flew to cali with the crips, got a power plug
a.p. on my wrist, wet as f*ck like a sour slush
big chop on my neck, ready to drop some
i don’t hang with no n*gga if he ain’t drop nothing
couldn’t sell the fnn, ’cause it got opps on it
n*ggas can’t keep up in the streets, [?] cops on us
yeah, pour the pop on it
i just told a junky buying acie, and threw wok on it
ride through the city in the lack, but i got drop money
he was playing games with that dough, and got a hot [?]

- team eastside lil p lyrics

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