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lay low - young chris lyrics

“maybach music!” division 1

bought a brand new loft, five thousand dollars a month
b-tch, my sour’s expensive, one hundred dollars a blunt
only smoke if it’s proper, in the words of the poppa
rush his -ss to the doctor
detectives askin’, “who shot ya?”
blocka blocka, on his -ss with the choppers
[?] chicken like soccer
while it’s poppin’, it’s poppin’
twenty b-tches around us
i just slide her the number
soon as she hit me, i count her
i canary the pinky, hit her right like winky
got the club looking cloudy
for the love of the stinky
in a 600 benz, couple b-tches they’re friends
and we just getting started
these haters wish it would end
brown-nosing these hoes, n-ggas fishing again
she swallow it all, she drop my kid on her chin
n-ggas left me for dead, b-tch i’m living again
special shout to division, they see my vision to win
know it’s a party, when you see the sparkles
they coming on top of couches, b-tches surround us
we blunted, travel the globe, stop through your town
and run it, so let ’em know
tell them hoes tonight we blowing a hundred

’cause we m-th-f-ckin’ paid ho
and got the green, blow that paper like the haze, ho
life is a beach, i’m in the sun
with my shades, ho
after the club
we take the baddest b-tch and lay low

hey ho! hey ho!
after the club we get the baddest b-tch and lay low
hey ho! hey ho!
after the club we get the baddest b-tch and lay low

maserati dippin’, this cost me a chicken
neck cost me a billi’

- young chris lyrics

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