CHROME! Lyrics – Makeoutcy
Singer: Makeoutcy
Title: CHROME!
Bring Glocks we gon’ hit in your dome
Talk sh#t you gon’ duck from the Chrome
I talk with a semi, got bullets ain’t ready
Lil b#tch we pull up to yo home
Lil boy talking smack on the phone
You gon’ be just watching your tone
We hit with the strap got bags up on bags
Your b#tch still loving my bone
I run up and hit like I’m Michael
Gon’ run from my bullets – a rifle
You still typin’ fast I get to the stack
You my little clone my disciple
Gon’ scream when you know we your rivals
You talk on the net I’m your idol
Yo life like a game we pullin’ the trigger
You scared this a kind of survival (Aye, Aye, Aye)
Bring Glocks we gon’ hit in your dome
Talk sh#t you gon’ duck from the Chrome
I talk with a semi, got bullets ain’t ready
Lil b#tch we pull up to yo home
Lil boy talking smack on the phone
You gon’ be just watching your tone
We hit with the strap got bags up on bags
Your b#tch still loving my bone
I run up and hit like I’m Michael
Gon’ run from my bullets – a rifle
You still typin’ fast I get to the stack
You my little clone my disciple
Gon’ scream when you know we your rivals
You talk on the net I’m your idol
Yo life like a game we pullin’ the trigger
You scared this a kind of survival
They calling me Freddy the way that I kill
I pull up wit .40’s b#tch getting a thrill
She got a big attitude ain’t got a mil
You still in ya crib doing nothing, just chill
She wanting a Rari she rocking new pills
I chop wit a Glockie run fast King of Hill
f#ck all that wit the beam and and deal
You wanting it more now you try and steal
b#tch we got the Louis the Prada the Benz
You tryna’ slide on me ain’t nun but your friends
Ain’t all big they gon’ try and pretend
They scared they gon’ run up in a blend
Got a big Choppa I aim at they head
Pullin the trigger ain’t talkin’ like ted
They dumb and confused when I’m makin’ this bread
They wanna be me b#tch gon’ take this lead
Aye, .45 straight to your dome (Uh, huh)
Lil’ b#tch wanna come to my home (Uh, huh)
A n#gg# gon’ up it The Choppa be dumping
We send him to hell with his soul (Uh, huh)
Get with it
Get right
Bands to the left, and the knock on my right
Everyone shot, you need luck to survive
Shorty a thot, give me head in the ride (On gang)
That boy ended up deceased
Damn 2 steps, leaning off the lean
He pressed, take him off the scene (Uh, huh)
The next b#tch is on her knees
This Glock detrimental He hit in his dental
He sending like half of the shots that we sent him
2 Tone Glock, this b#tch finna’ end him
Everything dead, bullet holes where we sensed him
Bring Glocks we gon’ hit in your dome
Talk sh#t you gon’ duck from the Chrome
I talk with a semi, got bullets ain’t ready
Lil b#tch we pull up to yo home
Lil boy talking smack on the phone
You gon’ be just watching your tone
We hit with the strap got bags up on bags
Your b#tch still loving my bone
I run up and hit like I’m Michael
Gon’ run from my bullets – a rifle
You still typin’ fast I get to the stack
You my little clone my disciple
Gon’ scream when you know we your rivals
You talk on the net I’m your idol
Yo life like a game we pullin’ the trigger
You scared this a kind of survival
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Lyrics Makeoutcy – CHROME!
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