Featuring BJ The Chicago Kid, Lili K., Kiara Lanier, Peter C
(Hook - BJ The Chicago Kid)
Even better than I was the last time baby...Oh oh oh oh ooh
Yo we back
I'm good, so good
And we back and we back
(Verse 1)
Raps just make me anxious and acid made me crazy
Them squares just made me looser and that wax just made me lazy
And I still make this song, and I'mma make another
If you ever actually hit me, better watch out for my brother
Better bet I'd take that deal, gotta watch out for my mother
Get a watch with all that glitters, come in clutters, different colors
Ben A Baller, Benford, Butler's, Chauffeur's, hit a stain-er, did I stutter?
Did a ton of drugs and did better than all my Alma mater
Motherf*cker money dance, hundreds zan, gotta lean
Make a joke bout Leno's hair then piggy back on Fallon's spleen
Balancing on sporadicity and f*cking pure joy
Nightly searches for a bed and I just came off tour with Troy
But I can't complain I got some motherf*cking business
How many lab partners have I f*cked since I got suspended?
Mr. Bennett, you done did it, you did it, you did it
You did a good ass job, you did a good ass job
And I'm good
(Hook - BJ The Chicago Kid)
Even better than I was the last time baby...Oh oh oh oh ooh
Yo we back
I'm good, so good
And we back and we back
(Verse 2)
Work, work, work, work, bang nigga, bang
Twerk, twerk, merge, swerve, Deng, pick a lane
Flip a bird; pigeon, plane, its a word, its a shame
But God I'm good, swear I couldn't be better
Kicking dirt on the shirts of the lames
Keep a tab on my exes, keep some "x" on my tongue
Keep my work out in Texas, that's just me flexing my lungs
See them showing they teeth, that's just them flapping they gums
If they bite and I'm snapping clap clap collapsing they lungs
Call me Chancellor The Rapper, please say "The Rapper"
Magical word (poof), please say 'Kadabra
Replay the replays; Green Bay to Packers
Cremate your teammates and freebase the ashes
Matches to gas leaks, dusted dusk till dawn
It's just us, and trust ya bottom bitch, my stuff the f*cking bomb
I'm the motherf*cking f*cker, f*ck a niggas f*cking dumb
This your favorite f*cking album and ain't even f*cking done
(Hook - BJ The Chicago Kid)
Even better than I was the last time baby...Oh oh oh oh ooh
Yo we back
I'm good, so good
And we back and we back
Chance The Rapper - Acid Rap Album Lyrics
Chance The Rapper - Acid Rap Lyrics
Writer: Jonathan Chancelor Bennett
Copyright: Lyrics © Non Skip Muzik
Copyright: Lyrics © Non Skip Muzik
Pusha Man
Featuring Nate Fox & Lili K
(Verse 1: Chance The Rapper)
Ten damn days
And all I got to show for it is shoes and shows and chauffeurs with road rage
Still the same damn ad-lib: IGH!, always
Still gotta let em in, no practice
Still gotta burner man, no lacking
Still lotta Jams nigga, no Jackson
No Jordan and we toe-tagging
I'll take you to land, where the lake made of sand
And the milk don't pour and the honey don't dance
And the money ain't yours
Now its just a red pill,
Got a blue and a hand full of Advils
I'm the new Nitty, f*ck it Nitty the the old me
So Ima tell the buyer what Nitty told me
(Hook 1) x2
I got that Mmm Mmm
I got that god damn
I'm yo pusha man
I'm yo, I'm yo pusha man
Pimp slapping, toe taggin
I'm just tryna fight the man
I'm yo pusha man
I'm yo, I'm yo pusha man
(Verse 2)
I'm away and your bitch break down my weed sometimes
See my face in the streets, in the tweets and
And a Reader or a Redeye if you read sometimes
She got blisters on her knees, she's a fiend for the D
Even though I only beat one time
One time it was one two times
It was two plus me equals three sometimes
Shouts out to Nate, I jackball and I bop, I flex
Got neck from all these thots I sex
Rastafari them shottas yes
House safari, mi casa, yes
Rocky feeling that bye bye
She came to party, she popped a Molly
Said "come to papa", she said "papa, yes"
(Hook 1) x2
I got that Mmm Mmm
I got that god damn
I'm yo pusha man
I'm yo, I'm yo pusha man
Pimp slapping, toe taggin
I'm just tryna fight the man
I'm yo pusha man
I'm yo, I'm yo pusha man
(Hook 2) x2
I've been riding around with my blunt on my lips
With the sun in my eyes, and my gun on my hip
Paranoia on my mind, got my mind on the fritz
But a lotta niggas dying, so my 9 with the shits
(Verse 3)
Move to the neighborhood, I bet they don't stay for good, watch
Somebody'll steal daddy's rollie, and call it the neighborhood watch
Pray for a safer hood when my paper good, watch
Captain saber hood put savia, baby boy, still get 98 for swishers
Mama still wash my clothes, still with Save Money militia
Ima still wash my broach
Trapped in the middle of the map, with a little bitty rock
And a little bit of rap
That with a literary knack and a little shitty Mac
And I'm like literary jacked
(Hook 2) x2
I've been riding around with my blunt on my lips
With the sun in my eyes, and my gun on my hip
Paranoia on my mind, got my mind on the fritz
But a lotta niggas dying, so my 9 with the shits
(Verse 4)
They merking kids, they murder kids here
Why you think they don't talk about it? They deserted us here
Where the f*ck is Matt Lauer at? Somebody get Katie Couric in here
Probably scared of all the refugees, look like we had a f*cking hurricane here
They be shooting whether it's dark or not, I mean the days is pretty dark a lot
Down here it's easier to find a gun than it is to find a f*cking parking spot
No love for the opposition, specifically a cop position,
Cause they've never been in our position
Getting violations for the nation correlating you dry snitching
(Hook 2) x2
I've been riding around with my blunt on my lips
With the sun in my eyes, and my gun on my hip
Paranoia on my mind, got my mind on the fritz
But a lotta niggas dying, so my 9 with the shits
(Breakdown)
I know you scared, you should ask us if we scared, too.
I know you scared, me too.
I know you scared, you should ask us if we scared, too.
If you was there, then we just knew you'd care, too.
(Verse 5)
It just got warm out, this this shit I've been warned about.
I hope that it storm in the morning, I hope that it's pouring out.
I hate crowded beaches, I hate the sound of fireworks.
And I ponder what's worse between knowing it's over and dying first.
Cause everybody dies in the summer.
When they say goodbye, tell them while it's spring.
I heard everybody's dying in the summer, so pray to God for a little more spring.
I know you scared, you should ask us if we scared, too.
If you was there, then we just knew you'd care, too.
(Verse 1: Chance The Rapper)
Ten damn days
And all I got to show for it is shoes and shows and chauffeurs with road rage
Still the same damn ad-lib: IGH!, always
Still gotta let em in, no practice
Still gotta burner man, no lacking
Still lotta Jams nigga, no Jackson
No Jordan and we toe-tagging
I'll take you to land, where the lake made of sand
And the milk don't pour and the honey don't dance
And the money ain't yours
Now its just a red pill,
Got a blue and a hand full of Advils
I'm the new Nitty, f*ck it Nitty the the old me
So Ima tell the buyer what Nitty told me
(Hook 1) x2
I got that Mmm Mmm
I got that god damn
I'm yo pusha man
I'm yo, I'm yo pusha man
Pimp slapping, toe taggin
I'm just tryna fight the man
I'm yo pusha man
I'm yo, I'm yo pusha man
(Verse 2)
I'm away and your bitch break down my weed sometimes
See my face in the streets, in the tweets and
And a Reader or a Redeye if you read sometimes
She got blisters on her knees, she's a fiend for the D
Even though I only beat one time
One time it was one two times
It was two plus me equals three sometimes
Shouts out to Nate, I jackball and I bop, I flex
Got neck from all these thots I sex
Rastafari them shottas yes
House safari, mi casa, yes
Rocky feeling that bye bye
She came to party, she popped a Molly
Said "come to papa", she said "papa, yes"
(Hook 1) x2
I got that Mmm Mmm
I got that god damn
I'm yo pusha man
I'm yo, I'm yo pusha man
Pimp slapping, toe taggin
I'm just tryna fight the man
I'm yo pusha man
I'm yo, I'm yo pusha man
(Hook 2) x2
I've been riding around with my blunt on my lips
With the sun in my eyes, and my gun on my hip
Paranoia on my mind, got my mind on the fritz
But a lotta niggas dying, so my 9 with the shits
(Verse 3)
Move to the neighborhood, I bet they don't stay for good, watch
Somebody'll steal daddy's rollie, and call it the neighborhood watch
Pray for a safer hood when my paper good, watch
Captain saber hood put savia, baby boy, still get 98 for swishers
Mama still wash my clothes, still with Save Money militia
Ima still wash my broach
Trapped in the middle of the map, with a little bitty rock
And a little bit of rap
That with a literary knack and a little shitty Mac
And I'm like literary jacked
(Hook 2) x2
I've been riding around with my blunt on my lips
With the sun in my eyes, and my gun on my hip
Paranoia on my mind, got my mind on the fritz
But a lotta niggas dying, so my 9 with the shits
(Verse 4)
They merking kids, they murder kids here
Why you think they don't talk about it? They deserted us here
Where the f*ck is Matt Lauer at? Somebody get Katie Couric in here
Probably scared of all the refugees, look like we had a f*cking hurricane here
They be shooting whether it's dark or not, I mean the days is pretty dark a lot
Down here it's easier to find a gun than it is to find a f*cking parking spot
No love for the opposition, specifically a cop position,
Cause they've never been in our position
Getting violations for the nation correlating you dry snitching
(Hook 2) x2
I've been riding around with my blunt on my lips
With the sun in my eyes, and my gun on my hip
Paranoia on my mind, got my mind on the fritz
But a lotta niggas dying, so my 9 with the shits
(Breakdown)
I know you scared, you should ask us if we scared, too.
I know you scared, me too.
I know you scared, you should ask us if we scared, too.
If you was there, then we just knew you'd care, too.
(Verse 5)
It just got warm out, this this shit I've been warned about.
I hope that it storm in the morning, I hope that it's pouring out.
I hate crowded beaches, I hate the sound of fireworks.
And I ponder what's worse between knowing it's over and dying first.
Cause everybody dies in the summer.
When they say goodbye, tell them while it's spring.
I heard everybody's dying in the summer, so pray to God for a little more spring.
I know you scared, you should ask us if we scared, too.
If you was there, then we just knew you'd care, too.
Writer: CHANCELOR JOHNATHAN BENNETT
Copyright: Lyrics © Non Skip Muzik
Copyright: Lyrics © Non Skip Muzik
Cocoa Butter Kisses
Featuring Vic Mensa & Twista
(Hook) x2
Cigarettes on cigarettes, my mama think I stank
I got burn holes in my hoodies, all my homies think it's dank
I miss my cocoa butter kisses, I miss my cocoa butter kisses
(Verse 1: Chance The Rapper)
Okie dokie, alky. Keep it lowkey like Thor lil bro
Or he'll go blow the loudy, saudy of sour Saudi
Wiley up off payote, wil'ing like that coyote
If I sip any Henny, my belly just might be outtie
Pull up inside a huggy, Starsky & Hutch a dougie
I just opened up the pack in an hour I'll ask my lucky
Tonight she just yelling f*ck me
Two weeks she'll be yelling f*ck me
Used to like orange cassette tapes with Timmy, Tommy, and Chuckie
And Chuck E. Cheese's pizzas, Jesus pieces, sing Jesus love me
Put Visine inside my eyes so my grandma would f*cking hug me
Oh generation above me, I know you still remember me
My afro look just like daddy's, y'all taught me how to go hunting (BLAM!)
(Hook) x2
Cigarettes on cigarettes, my mama think I stank
I got burn holes in my hoodies, all my homies think it's dank
I miss my cocoa butter kisses, I miss my cocoa butter kisses
(Verse 2: Vic Mensa)
I will smoke a little something but I don't inhale
Everywhere that I go, everywhere they be asking hows it going
Say the goings well
Go figure, Victor's light skinned, Jesus got me feeling like Colin Powell
All praise to the God, God knows he's a pro, he's a pro like coat and tail
Check, check mate, check me, take me to the bedroom, let you know me well
I mean normally you see Norma Jean with it kicking with Farmer Phil
But these kids these days they get so high, burn trees, smoke Chlorophyll
'Til they can't feel shit, shit faced, faced it, 15 hits on this L
Elevated, train, and the craziest thing, got me feeling like Lauryn Hill
Miseducated, my dick delegated, rap Bill Bellamy, they said I shoulda never made it
Probably shoulda been dead or in jail
Deadbeat dad, enough of that jazz, asshole, absinthe up in that class
Are we there yet? Ice cubes in a bowl, we're brain dead, take a tug and then pass
I think we all addicted,
Yeah, I think we all addicted
Really though, I think we all addicted
I think we addicted
(Hook) x2
Cigarettes on cigarettes, my mama think I stank
I got burn holes in my hoodies, all my homies think it's dank
I miss my cocoa butter kisses, I miss my cocoa butter kisses
(Verse 3: Twista)
I could make a flow, pitter patter with a patter pitter
A two seat used to be in a jala be in a coufie
Trying hard not to be addicted to a groupie
I ended up in an album cover in a Coogi
You see, I be still a God but a goofy
You be throwing up your drugs in the Uzi
That's the new principle, sometimes Ima be about some ho
Sometimes Ima wanna make a movie
And when it comes to rapping fast, I'm the Higgs Boson
And though my style freakish,
I could still break your body down to five pieces like a did Voltron
Cause I be addicted to the craft and I be off the OG
Know me, I'm the Obi-Wan Kenobi of the dough see
Never scared of mean spirits
Methamphetamine lyrics
Cooling like a motherf*cker codeine low key
Don't be so judgemental
Even though I reminisce and if I don't know what I miss
Ima end a figure freak out that is home
To my mother and my grandmother cocoa butter kisses
This is just a testament to the ones that raised me
The ones that I praise and I'm thanking
I need them but the chronic all up in my clothes
And I wanna get a hug, but I can't cause I'm stanking
Never too old for a spanking
(Hook) x2
Cigarettes on cigarettes, my mama think I stank
I got burn holes in my hoodies, all my homies think it's dank
I miss my cocoa butter kisses, I miss my cocoa butter kisses
(Hook) x2
Cigarettes on cigarettes, my mama think I stank
I got burn holes in my hoodies, all my homies think it's dank
I miss my cocoa butter kisses, I miss my cocoa butter kisses
(Verse 1: Chance The Rapper)
Okie dokie, alky. Keep it lowkey like Thor lil bro
Or he'll go blow the loudy, saudy of sour Saudi
Wiley up off payote, wil'ing like that coyote
If I sip any Henny, my belly just might be outtie
Pull up inside a huggy, Starsky & Hutch a dougie
I just opened up the pack in an hour I'll ask my lucky
Tonight she just yelling f*ck me
Two weeks she'll be yelling f*ck me
Used to like orange cassette tapes with Timmy, Tommy, and Chuckie
And Chuck E. Cheese's pizzas, Jesus pieces, sing Jesus love me
Put Visine inside my eyes so my grandma would f*cking hug me
Oh generation above me, I know you still remember me
My afro look just like daddy's, y'all taught me how to go hunting (BLAM!)
(Hook) x2
Cigarettes on cigarettes, my mama think I stank
I got burn holes in my hoodies, all my homies think it's dank
I miss my cocoa butter kisses, I miss my cocoa butter kisses
(Verse 2: Vic Mensa)
I will smoke a little something but I don't inhale
Everywhere that I go, everywhere they be asking hows it going
Say the goings well
Go figure, Victor's light skinned, Jesus got me feeling like Colin Powell
All praise to the God, God knows he's a pro, he's a pro like coat and tail
Check, check mate, check me, take me to the bedroom, let you know me well
I mean normally you see Norma Jean with it kicking with Farmer Phil
But these kids these days they get so high, burn trees, smoke Chlorophyll
'Til they can't feel shit, shit faced, faced it, 15 hits on this L
Elevated, train, and the craziest thing, got me feeling like Lauryn Hill
Miseducated, my dick delegated, rap Bill Bellamy, they said I shoulda never made it
Probably shoulda been dead or in jail
Deadbeat dad, enough of that jazz, asshole, absinthe up in that class
Are we there yet? Ice cubes in a bowl, we're brain dead, take a tug and then pass
I think we all addicted,
Yeah, I think we all addicted
Really though, I think we all addicted
I think we addicted
(Hook) x2
Cigarettes on cigarettes, my mama think I stank
I got burn holes in my hoodies, all my homies think it's dank
I miss my cocoa butter kisses, I miss my cocoa butter kisses
(Verse 3: Twista)
I could make a flow, pitter patter with a patter pitter
A two seat used to be in a jala be in a coufie
Trying hard not to be addicted to a groupie
I ended up in an album cover in a Coogi
You see, I be still a God but a goofy
You be throwing up your drugs in the Uzi
That's the new principle, sometimes Ima be about some ho
Sometimes Ima wanna make a movie
And when it comes to rapping fast, I'm the Higgs Boson
And though my style freakish,
I could still break your body down to five pieces like a did Voltron
Cause I be addicted to the craft and I be off the OG
Know me, I'm the Obi-Wan Kenobi of the dough see
Never scared of mean spirits
Methamphetamine lyrics
Cooling like a motherf*cker codeine low key
Don't be so judgemental
Even though I reminisce and if I don't know what I miss
Ima end a figure freak out that is home
To my mother and my grandmother cocoa butter kisses
This is just a testament to the ones that raised me
The ones that I praise and I'm thanking
I need them but the chronic all up in my clothes
And I wanna get a hug, but I can't cause I'm stanking
Never too old for a spanking
(Hook) x2
Cigarettes on cigarettes, my mama think I stank
I got burn holes in my hoodies, all my homies think it's dank
I miss my cocoa butter kisses, I miss my cocoa butter kisses
Writer: CARL TERRELL MITCHELL, CHANCELOR JOHNATHAN BENNETT, VICTOR KWESI MENSAH
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Juice
(Intro/Bridge (singing))
Thirsty, thirsty, trynna choose
I mean I know, I'm pretty cool
My Nitty bag, my kitty boost
I got the juice, I got the juice
(Verse 1)
CHANO, Chathams own
Foolies glad I'm home
Even my haters kinda glad I'm on
Rest In Peace to my Vagabond
Rapper song, singer - suspended, subpoena
For misdemeanors, dreamer, held back ass is lowkey still a senior
And I still shake up BO Squad, praying for my BroGods
City on the Come Up, shout that nigga Sosa!
Shout my nigga Fat Trel, shout my nigga Joseph
Playing Buenos Aires while they sleepin' Buenos Noches!
Wonder if I wrote this cause it's so crisp
The most brokest cold stock broker winter solstice
I could win an Oscar, Russian Accent Husky
Acid addict, Costly avid Actor
Kevin Costner
AHHHHHHHHH!!!!! TURN UP TURN UP!
(Hook)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
I got the juice, I got the juice (YUP)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
I got the juice, I got the juice (YUP)
(Verse 2)
God give me one sentence more
Maybe I just gotta get suspended more?
Hash tag it, get mentions for it
Make you love it, get it trending more
And then act humble
Hear some bull that some dude mumble
Wantin' to jump dude, but let that nigga punk you
Knowin bitch niggas wanna bring guns to the rumbles, igh!
But I love y'all souls
Don't let the juice spill Pac!
Blue pill pop
Til you feel good enough to pop the popped bitch in the blue hills yop!
That one - drown in the juice nigga
Hunnid proof get "fountain-of-youth"ed nigga
Stop with all the trynna introduce nigga
Everybody know you dude you the new nigga!
Hows it feel to be you, yo no se
I ain't really been myself since Rod passed
I ain't even really need that shop class
I ain't really been weak since pops smashed
I'm a genius, a mothaf*ckin pop smash
Hit sensei, master
Jack and Lindsey, Wiley, Kembe
Been paid, 10Day been they FAFSA
AHHHHHHHHH!!!!! TURN UP TURN UP!
(Hook)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
I got the juice, I got the juice (YUP)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
I got the juice, I got the juice (YUP)
(Verse 3)
Yup, JUUUUUUUGO
You never tasted paper
Tripped, racing yaself trynna chase the paper
I just faced a Vega
And you love being Kobe when you make the lay up
Till you realize everybody in the world f*ckin hates the Lakers, Hahaha
And then everybody wanna sip, til the juice spill everybody want a bib
And then everybody wanna dip
Told you I ain't worried, I ain't scared of the booth
All you can do is spit a verse of the truth
Merge the mixture with the purest and the fruits
And the thirst just the worst it's the curse of the juice
(Hook)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
I got the juice, I got the juice (YUP)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
I got the juice, I got the juice (YUP)
JUICE, JUICE, JUICE, JUICE. YUP.
JUICE, JUICE, JUICE, JUICE. YUP.
Yup.
Yup.
..........Yup.
Thirsty, thirsty, trynna choose
I mean I know, I'm pretty cool
My Nitty bag, my kitty boost
I got the juice, I got the juice
(Verse 1)
CHANO, Chathams own
Foolies glad I'm home
Even my haters kinda glad I'm on
Rest In Peace to my Vagabond
Rapper song, singer - suspended, subpoena
For misdemeanors, dreamer, held back ass is lowkey still a senior
And I still shake up BO Squad, praying for my BroGods
City on the Come Up, shout that nigga Sosa!
Shout my nigga Fat Trel, shout my nigga Joseph
Playing Buenos Aires while they sleepin' Buenos Noches!
Wonder if I wrote this cause it's so crisp
The most brokest cold stock broker winter solstice
I could win an Oscar, Russian Accent Husky
Acid addict, Costly avid Actor
Kevin Costner
AHHHHHHHHH!!!!! TURN UP TURN UP!
(Hook)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
I got the juice, I got the juice (YUP)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
I got the juice, I got the juice (YUP)
(Verse 2)
God give me one sentence more
Maybe I just gotta get suspended more?
Hash tag it, get mentions for it
Make you love it, get it trending more
And then act humble
Hear some bull that some dude mumble
Wantin' to jump dude, but let that nigga punk you
Knowin bitch niggas wanna bring guns to the rumbles, igh!
But I love y'all souls
Don't let the juice spill Pac!
Blue pill pop
Til you feel good enough to pop the popped bitch in the blue hills yop!
That one - drown in the juice nigga
Hunnid proof get "fountain-of-youth"ed nigga
Stop with all the trynna introduce nigga
Everybody know you dude you the new nigga!
Hows it feel to be you, yo no se
I ain't really been myself since Rod passed
I ain't even really need that shop class
I ain't really been weak since pops smashed
I'm a genius, a mothaf*ckin pop smash
Hit sensei, master
Jack and Lindsey, Wiley, Kembe
Been paid, 10Day been they FAFSA
AHHHHHHHHH!!!!! TURN UP TURN UP!
(Hook)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
I got the juice, I got the juice (YUP)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
I got the juice, I got the juice (YUP)
(Verse 3)
Yup, JUUUUUUUGO
You never tasted paper
Tripped, racing yaself trynna chase the paper
I just faced a Vega
And you love being Kobe when you make the lay up
Till you realize everybody in the world f*ckin hates the Lakers, Hahaha
And then everybody wanna sip, til the juice spill everybody want a bib
And then everybody wanna dip
Told you I ain't worried, I ain't scared of the booth
All you can do is spit a verse of the truth
Merge the mixture with the purest and the fruits
And the thirst just the worst it's the curse of the juice
(Hook)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
I got the juice, I got the juice (YUP)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
Juice! (Juice!)
I got the juice, I got the juice (YUP)
JUICE, JUICE, JUICE, JUICE. YUP.
JUICE, JUICE, JUICE, JUICE. YUP.
Yup.
Yup.
..........Yup.
Writer: CHANCELOR JOHNATHAN BENNETT
Copyright: Lyrics © Non Skip Muzik
Copyright: Lyrics © Non Skip Muzik
Lost
My druggy
Love me
When I'm ugly
Hug me
When I'm bummy, scummy
I'm your hubby
Let's get lost, let's get lost
Damn I'm in so deep
Probably cause you're empty
You can't even speak
Damn your mouth so minty
Ooh your mama hate me
Daddy wouldn't let you if he ever met me
If he ever met you
Put that shit behind us
And put this in your sinus
Mine is all up in my gums
Minus all that shit its lined with
I say oh oh oh ohh
You been scratchin, you been fiendin
I'mma fix you, I'mma f*ck you
I'mma get rid of them demons
Its my
My druggy
Love me
When I'm ugly
Hug me
When I'm bummy, scummy
I'm your hubby
Let's get lost, let's get lost
Damn I need a minute aight lehgo
She fell in love, it fell apart aight let go
She met her match, I let her match
She lit her match, she let me smoke
Yeah me mad petty, Yeah me bogus
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah me know
Yeah she knew too, it made her love it
Her pussy like me, her heart like f*ck it
So dance for daddy like Gator
Ain't no partners on this trip
And lose yourself in my room
And find yourself in my grip
I'm sayin'
My druggy
Love me
When I'm ugly
Hug me
When I'm bummy, scummy
I'm your hubby
Let's get lost, let's get lost
I blessed myself inside your arms one day
Swear to God there I was when the dress
And the Silver buttons fade away
Miss Mary Mattress, geriatrics
F*ck me into open caskets, I wanna die with this
I wanna stop seeing my psychiatrist
She said "pill pop, baby girl cause I promise you, you tweaked
The empty bottled loneliness, this happiness you seek"
The masochism that you preach
Practice back flips, tragic actress
On a movie with no screen
When the only time he loves me is naked in my dreams
My druggy
Love me
When I'm ugly
Hug me
When I'm bummy, scummy
I'm your hubby
Let's get lost, let's get lost
Love me
When I'm ugly
Hug me
When I'm bummy, scummy
I'm your hubby
Let's get lost, let's get lost
Damn I'm in so deep
Probably cause you're empty
You can't even speak
Damn your mouth so minty
Ooh your mama hate me
Daddy wouldn't let you if he ever met me
If he ever met you
Put that shit behind us
And put this in your sinus
Mine is all up in my gums
Minus all that shit its lined with
I say oh oh oh ohh
You been scratchin, you been fiendin
I'mma fix you, I'mma f*ck you
I'mma get rid of them demons
Its my
My druggy
Love me
When I'm ugly
Hug me
When I'm bummy, scummy
I'm your hubby
Let's get lost, let's get lost
Damn I need a minute aight lehgo
She fell in love, it fell apart aight let go
She met her match, I let her match
She lit her match, she let me smoke
Yeah me mad petty, Yeah me bogus
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah me know
Yeah she knew too, it made her love it
Her pussy like me, her heart like f*ck it
So dance for daddy like Gator
Ain't no partners on this trip
And lose yourself in my room
And find yourself in my grip
I'm sayin'
My druggy
Love me
When I'm ugly
Hug me
When I'm bummy, scummy
I'm your hubby
Let's get lost, let's get lost
I blessed myself inside your arms one day
Swear to God there I was when the dress
And the Silver buttons fade away
Miss Mary Mattress, geriatrics
F*ck me into open caskets, I wanna die with this
I wanna stop seeing my psychiatrist
She said "pill pop, baby girl cause I promise you, you tweaked
The empty bottled loneliness, this happiness you seek"
The masochism that you preach
Practice back flips, tragic actress
On a movie with no screen
When the only time he loves me is naked in my dreams
My druggy
Love me
When I'm ugly
Hug me
When I'm bummy, scummy
I'm your hubby
Let's get lost, let's get lost
Writer: CHANCELOR JOHNATHAN BENNETT
Copyright: Lyrics © I WROTE THIS MYSELF, Walt Disney Music Company, Downtown Music Publishing, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © I WROTE THIS MYSELF, Walt Disney Music Company, Downtown Music Publishing, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Everybodys Something
Featuring Saba & BJ The Chicago Kid
(Verse 1)
Whats good good?
And what's good evil?
And what's good gangstas?
And what's good people?
And whys God's phone die every time that I call on Him?
If his son had a Twitter wonder if I would follow him
Swallow them synonyms like cinnamon Cinnabon
Keep all them sentiments down to a minimum
Studious Gluteus Maxim models is sending him
Pics of they genitalia tallied up ten of em
I slurped too many pain-kills, downing em off a lot
I got a lot off days but it ain't often that I'm off the clock
Ya'know I mean?
I got the Chicago Blues
We invented rock before the Stones got through
We just aiming back cause the cops shot you
Buck buck bang bang, yelling "F*ck Fox News!"
Booyaka buckle up, mothaf*ck ops too
Ain't no knuckling up em young cause it just not cool
(Bridge)
Nice to see you Father New Year
Middle finger Uncle Samuel
Shooting death and waving dice
And hitting stains on birthday candles
I know somebody, somebody loves my ass
Cause they help me beat my demons ass
(Hook: Chance & BJ the Chicago Kid) x3
Everybody's somebody's everything
I know you are
Nobody's nothing
That's right
(Verse 2)
Right? IGH
I used to tell hoes I was dark light or off white
But I'd fight if a nigga said that I talk white
And both my parents was black
But they saw it fit that I talk right
And my draws here but my heart
And head stayed in the clouds like a lost kite
But gravity had me up in a submission hold
Like I'm dancing with the Devil with two left feet and I'm pigeon toed
In two small point ballet shoes with a missing sole
And two missing toes
But it's love like Cupid kissing a mistletoe
(Bridge)
Nice to see you Father New Year
Middle finger Uncle Samuel
Shooting death and waving dice
And hitting stains on birthday candles
I know somebody, somebody loves my ass
Cause they help me beat my demons ass
(Verse 3: Saba)
Like Cassius ducking the draft and now the fight is over
The type that love from a distance not the type that towed her
Spent three days on the rap, trash it and type it over
With babies on the block under arms like fighting odors
Coppers and quotas
Hold ya head like 2Pac had taught
Honestly they are on a come up
With better chances tobogganing in the f*cking summer
Concoctions for the bad days and a condom for the good ones
All odds against we tryna get lucky
Doper than lucky
You ain't that happy that's only a tuggy
Like Satan masturbating shit come hot
But y'all still love me ugh
How father time of dead be
Maybe I'm adopted
That'll explain why all of my shit been so timeless IGH
(Hook: Chance & BJ the Chicago Kid) x3
Everybody's somebody's everything
I know you are
Nobody's nothing
That's right
(Verse 1)
Whats good good?
And what's good evil?
And what's good gangstas?
And what's good people?
And whys God's phone die every time that I call on Him?
If his son had a Twitter wonder if I would follow him
Swallow them synonyms like cinnamon Cinnabon
Keep all them sentiments down to a minimum
Studious Gluteus Maxim models is sending him
Pics of they genitalia tallied up ten of em
I slurped too many pain-kills, downing em off a lot
I got a lot off days but it ain't often that I'm off the clock
Ya'know I mean?
I got the Chicago Blues
We invented rock before the Stones got through
We just aiming back cause the cops shot you
Buck buck bang bang, yelling "F*ck Fox News!"
Booyaka buckle up, mothaf*ck ops too
Ain't no knuckling up em young cause it just not cool
(Bridge)
Nice to see you Father New Year
Middle finger Uncle Samuel
Shooting death and waving dice
And hitting stains on birthday candles
I know somebody, somebody loves my ass
Cause they help me beat my demons ass
(Hook: Chance & BJ the Chicago Kid) x3
Everybody's somebody's everything
I know you are
Nobody's nothing
That's right
(Verse 2)
Right? IGH
I used to tell hoes I was dark light or off white
But I'd fight if a nigga said that I talk white
And both my parents was black
But they saw it fit that I talk right
And my draws here but my heart
And head stayed in the clouds like a lost kite
But gravity had me up in a submission hold
Like I'm dancing with the Devil with two left feet and I'm pigeon toed
In two small point ballet shoes with a missing sole
And two missing toes
But it's love like Cupid kissing a mistletoe
(Bridge)
Nice to see you Father New Year
Middle finger Uncle Samuel
Shooting death and waving dice
And hitting stains on birthday candles
I know somebody, somebody loves my ass
Cause they help me beat my demons ass
(Verse 3: Saba)
Like Cassius ducking the draft and now the fight is over
The type that love from a distance not the type that towed her
Spent three days on the rap, trash it and type it over
With babies on the block under arms like fighting odors
Coppers and quotas
Hold ya head like 2Pac had taught
Honestly they are on a come up
With better chances tobogganing in the f*cking summer
Concoctions for the bad days and a condom for the good ones
All odds against we tryna get lucky
Doper than lucky
You ain't that happy that's only a tuggy
Like Satan masturbating shit come hot
But y'all still love me ugh
How father time of dead be
Maybe I'm adopted
That'll explain why all of my shit been so timeless IGH
(Hook: Chance & BJ the Chicago Kid) x3
Everybody's somebody's everything
I know you are
Nobody's nothing
That's right
Writer: CHANCELOR JOHNATHAN BENNETT
Copyright: Lyrics © Non Skip Muzik
Copyright: Lyrics © Non Skip Muzik
Interlude- Thats Love
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
What's better than tripping is falling in love
What's better than Letterman, Leno, Fallon, and all the above
What's better than popping bottles trying to ball in the club
Is the first caveman pops with his son, ball and a club
What's better than paper is balling it up
What's better than followers is actually falling in love
What's better than frolicking, follies, fallin in mud,
Rolling in green pastures, wandering following love
What's better than eating is feeding your fam
What's better than meetings is missing meetings to meet with your fam
What's better than leaning and needing your Zan
Is hitting your Zan dreaming a dream could mean leaving the land
What's better than yelling is hollering love
What's better than rhymes, nickles, dimes, dollars, and dubs
Is dialing up your darling just for calling her up
There ain't nothing better than falling in love
After this cuts off on as well as I could â
I've seen it come back, back, back and forth,
You hit the nail right on top of the head,
I know you seen it all before,
But when it looked you in the eyes it ain't nothing you could say but that's love
Thats love
Thats looove ooohh
Thats love
Say thats love,
Thats loooove, thats love, thats love thats love
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you
That's looove
That's loooooooovee, that's loooove
Say that's love, thats looove, thats love
Thats love, thats love thats love
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
What's better than tripping is falling in love
What's better than Letterman, Leno, Fallon, and all the above
What's better than popping bottles trying to ball in the club
Is the first caveman pops with his son, ball and a club
What's better than paper is balling it up
What's better than followers is actually falling in love
What's better than frolicking, follies, fallin in mud,
Rolling in green pastures, wandering following love
What's better than eating is feeding your fam
What's better than meetings is missing meetings to meet with your fam
What's better than leaning and needing your Zan
Is hitting your Zan dreaming a dream could mean leaving the land
What's better than yelling is hollering love
What's better than rhymes, nickles, dimes, dollars, and dubs
Is dialing up your darling just for calling her up
There ain't nothing better than falling in love
After this cuts off on as well as I could â
I've seen it come back, back, back and forth,
You hit the nail right on top of the head,
I know you seen it all before,
But when it looked you in the eyes it ain't nothing you could say but that's love
Thats love
Thats looove ooohh
Thats love
Say thats love,
Thats loooove, thats love, thats love thats love
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you
That's looove
That's loooooooovee, that's loooove
Say that's love, thats looove, thats love
Thats love, thats love thats love
Writer: CHANCELOR BENNETT, LUDWIG EMIL TOMAS GORANSSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Favorite Song
Featuring Childish Gambino
(Verse 1: Chance The Rapper)
Chance, acid rapper, soccer, hacky sacker
Cocky khaki jacket jacker
Slap-happy faggot slapper
Iraqi rocket launcher
Shake that Laffy Taffy, jolly raunchy rapper
Dang, dang, dang - skeet, skeet, skeet
She do that thing for three retweets
The album feel like '92
Then take that bomb for Heat, three-peat
Chance, ho, I said, cruising on that LSD
Ask yourself about my deal
You'll go batshit - "hell yeah, let's eat!"
(Hook)
This shit my favorite song, you just don't know the words
But I still f*ck with you, you just ain't never heard
It go like: count that stack, pop that cap then down that Jack
All my niggas hit that zan, and all my ladies 'bout that bag
This my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam
I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam
This my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam
I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm bout that jam
(Verse 2: Chance The Rapper)
Young Rascal Flatts - young ass kid ass could rap
F*ck all the faculty, tobacco-packing acrobat
Back-to-back packin' bags back and forth with fifths of Jack
Enforce the weed, I'm back to pack on hands
With young Cleatus to pat my back
Real nigga with a nose ring, that's right
Just here to rap them songs
Rag on my hair wrap, weed in Vegas, rockin' Vagabonds
Sang a song, oh you don't know? What?
Well, I still bang with you
Hang with you, sip drank with you
As long as I can sang with you like:
(Hook)
This shit my favorite song, you just don't know the words
But I still f*ck with you, you just ain't never heard
It go like: count that stack, pop that cap then down that Jack
All my niggas hit that zan, and all my ladies 'bout that bag
This my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam
I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam
This my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam
I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm bout that jam
(Verse 3: Childish Gambino)
Niggas please be focused - that 'Bino, you know this
He rep the home of Sosas, you know I'm from that Zone 6
You know I rep that Stone shit, you know your 'hood is so clit
As God as my witness, this Will Smith spit real shit
I'mma be that - CG busy gettin', where the weed at?
Bought your girl some new kneepads
You're f*ckin' with the Fifi bag
My stars, egad, she said: "this my favorite song"
"Hold my purse" - now she on the floor, droppin' like it's hot
You blast this shit in Abercrombie when your work is finished
Your mom won't play it in the car cause it's got cursing in it
Your boy like: "I'm the one who showed you," he want his percentage
Cause you were like: "this ain't the nigga you said spittin', is it?"
Two-step - white dude's Harlem Shake
Why you laughing? Cause you Harlem Shake?
I was never fake, I was just too good to be true
That's acid rap, we killed the track
You had your chance, and 'Bino too
(Hook)
This shit my favorite song, you just don't know the words
But I still f*ck with you, you just ain't never heard
It go like: count that stack, pop that cap then down that Jack
All my niggas hit that zan, and all my ladies 'bout that bag
This my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam
I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam
This my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam
I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm bout that jam
(Verse 1: Chance The Rapper)
Chance, acid rapper, soccer, hacky sacker
Cocky khaki jacket jacker
Slap-happy faggot slapper
Iraqi rocket launcher
Shake that Laffy Taffy, jolly raunchy rapper
Dang, dang, dang - skeet, skeet, skeet
She do that thing for three retweets
The album feel like '92
Then take that bomb for Heat, three-peat
Chance, ho, I said, cruising on that LSD
Ask yourself about my deal
You'll go batshit - "hell yeah, let's eat!"
(Hook)
This shit my favorite song, you just don't know the words
But I still f*ck with you, you just ain't never heard
It go like: count that stack, pop that cap then down that Jack
All my niggas hit that zan, and all my ladies 'bout that bag
This my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam
I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam
This my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam
I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm bout that jam
(Verse 2: Chance The Rapper)
Young Rascal Flatts - young ass kid ass could rap
F*ck all the faculty, tobacco-packing acrobat
Back-to-back packin' bags back and forth with fifths of Jack
Enforce the weed, I'm back to pack on hands
With young Cleatus to pat my back
Real nigga with a nose ring, that's right
Just here to rap them songs
Rag on my hair wrap, weed in Vegas, rockin' Vagabonds
Sang a song, oh you don't know? What?
Well, I still bang with you
Hang with you, sip drank with you
As long as I can sang with you like:
(Hook)
This shit my favorite song, you just don't know the words
But I still f*ck with you, you just ain't never heard
It go like: count that stack, pop that cap then down that Jack
All my niggas hit that zan, and all my ladies 'bout that bag
This my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam
I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam
This my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam
I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm bout that jam
(Verse 3: Childish Gambino)
Niggas please be focused - that 'Bino, you know this
He rep the home of Sosas, you know I'm from that Zone 6
You know I rep that Stone shit, you know your 'hood is so clit
As God as my witness, this Will Smith spit real shit
I'mma be that - CG busy gettin', where the weed at?
Bought your girl some new kneepads
You're f*ckin' with the Fifi bag
My stars, egad, she said: "this my favorite song"
"Hold my purse" - now she on the floor, droppin' like it's hot
You blast this shit in Abercrombie when your work is finished
Your mom won't play it in the car cause it's got cursing in it
Your boy like: "I'm the one who showed you," he want his percentage
Cause you were like: "this ain't the nigga you said spittin', is it?"
Two-step - white dude's Harlem Shake
Why you laughing? Cause you Harlem Shake?
I was never fake, I was just too good to be true
That's acid rap, we killed the track
You had your chance, and 'Bino too
(Hook)
This shit my favorite song, you just don't know the words
But I still f*ck with you, you just ain't never heard
It go like: count that stack, pop that cap then down that Jack
All my niggas hit that zan, and all my ladies 'bout that bag
This my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam
I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam
This my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam
I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm bout that jam
Writer: Chancelor Johnathan Bennett, Betty Wright, Clarence Reid, Donald Glover, Nate Fox, Willie Clarke
Copyright: Lyrics © Non Skip Muzik
Copyright: Lyrics © Non Skip Muzik
NaNa
Introducin' Chance the Ruthless
Trip 'shrooms and lucy
Dreams is lucid
Loosely based on music
Swallow my mucus
Hope your pussy get herpes and yo' ass get lupus
Deuces Douches, deuce deuce I'll shoot ya (BANG)
Shoes might boot cha and a suit might suit cha
They be on bullshit but they really don't do shit
They use of illusion could confuse Confucius
Nasty, ashy, cigarette ashing, 'til my voice get raspy
Last week suspended
Last night kissed Va$htie
Parleyed with Ashley
Always in the hallway, so I never been classy
(Ha ha ha) Shut up
Na na na, na na na
Na na na, na na na
Na na na, na na na
(Igh, igh, igh, igh!)
Acid acid, get it? Acid
Melts through plastic, I spit fired
Pad my palette, talkin' paper
If this was work, I'd get higher
Pardon my mishaps, burp and get murdered
Fart and get bitch-slapped, like bourbon mixed with jack
Lickety-split, Look it! He slipped on a shell
From peelin' banana splits back
Give me my Kit-Kat
Don't break me off shit, batch, fack is you mean bitch?
Zan with that lean bitch, zan with that lean bitch
Zen with that chakra
I eat it like Idi Amin, Ya Kna Wha Mean
Hit me back when that mean shit
Na na na, na na na
Na na na, na na na
Na na na, na na na
(Igh, igh, igh, igh!)
Introducin', It's Bronsonlino
With my hair slicked back, I look like Rick Pitino
3 Japanese dykes in my El Camino
Lettin' trees blow, oh
I rep the East Coast, I got a team of hoes like Pat Summit
I look like Arnold Schwarzenegger in a black hummer (get to the chopper)
I splash summer like a fast brother
With a number on his back, ain't no fumblin', in fact, I'm
Back, acid in my hat
Shoot then pass the gat, it's at the bottom of the river in a plastic bag
My new shorty got a gymnastic back
87 emerald green on a classic jag
She had the cleft palate, I ordered chef's salad
She had the club foot, with that little arm
I couldn't help but laugh, she ordered Chicken Parm
I had the full Bulls warm-up with the Pippens on
Suck my motherf*cking dick, it's the young Randy Velarde
Queens, baby
Blow me
Trip 'shrooms and lucy
Dreams is lucid
Loosely based on music
Swallow my mucus
Hope your pussy get herpes and yo' ass get lupus
Deuces Douches, deuce deuce I'll shoot ya (BANG)
Shoes might boot cha and a suit might suit cha
They be on bullshit but they really don't do shit
They use of illusion could confuse Confucius
Nasty, ashy, cigarette ashing, 'til my voice get raspy
Last week suspended
Last night kissed Va$htie
Parleyed with Ashley
Always in the hallway, so I never been classy
(Ha ha ha) Shut up
Na na na, na na na
Na na na, na na na
Na na na, na na na
(Igh, igh, igh, igh!)
Acid acid, get it? Acid
Melts through plastic, I spit fired
Pad my palette, talkin' paper
If this was work, I'd get higher
Pardon my mishaps, burp and get murdered
Fart and get bitch-slapped, like bourbon mixed with jack
Lickety-split, Look it! He slipped on a shell
From peelin' banana splits back
Give me my Kit-Kat
Don't break me off shit, batch, fack is you mean bitch?
Zan with that lean bitch, zan with that lean bitch
Zen with that chakra
I eat it like Idi Amin, Ya Kna Wha Mean
Hit me back when that mean shit
Na na na, na na na
Na na na, na na na
Na na na, na na na
(Igh, igh, igh, igh!)
Introducin', It's Bronsonlino
With my hair slicked back, I look like Rick Pitino
3 Japanese dykes in my El Camino
Lettin' trees blow, oh
I rep the East Coast, I got a team of hoes like Pat Summit
I look like Arnold Schwarzenegger in a black hummer (get to the chopper)
I splash summer like a fast brother
With a number on his back, ain't no fumblin', in fact, I'm
Back, acid in my hat
Shoot then pass the gat, it's at the bottom of the river in a plastic bag
My new shorty got a gymnastic back
87 emerald green on a classic jag
She had the cleft palate, I ordered chef's salad
She had the club foot, with that little arm
I couldn't help but laugh, she ordered Chicken Parm
I had the full Bulls warm-up with the Pippens on
Suck my motherf*cking dick, it's the young Randy Velarde
Queens, baby
Blow me
Writer: CHANCELOR JOHNATHAN BENNETT
Copyright: Lyrics © The Administration MP, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © The Administration MP, Inc.
Smoke Again
Featuring Ab-Soul
(Hook) (x2)
Acid Rap!
I don't even talk to them on the phone again
Leave in the AM, on the road again
So bitch, let's f*ck so I can smoke again
I gotta smoke again, I got shit to do
(Verse 1: Chance The Rapper)
Who smokin in my car?
It's that nigga Chano
AKA Mr. Bennett
AK Tony Montano
I've got some folks in low end
I got some folks in c-note
AK hundred dinero
You ever seen Casino?
I just got back with 'Bino
I got a bitch but she know
Her friends done did the Dino
That's that Chicago lingo
Flamin' hots with Cheese
And a kiwi Mistic
My dick won't even call her
Cause she left all that lipstick
Niggas be on dirt
That's why I stay on petty
I know that bangers jam
That's why my hands stay ready
Flip the candy yum
That's the f*cking bombest
Lean all on the square
That's a f*ckin' rhombus
(Hook) (x4)
Acid Rap!
I don't even talk to them on the phone again
Leave in the AM, on the road again
So bitch, let's f*ck so I can smoke again
I gotta smoke again, I got shit to do
(Verse 2: Chance the Rapper)
Who's sneaking in the club?
That's that young sir rapper
Un-saran wrap the purple
Wrap that blunt under after
Smoke all out the window
Cops could eat a dick
If you ain't the hitter
You just might be the lick
Flame on, flame on
I'm your bitch's ringtone
She like when I rap raps
But better when I sing songs
No Drake, but I get my Trey on
Killin' in the hood like Trayvon
Shoppin' like I got a coupon
Savin' like I got a cape on
Cookin' crack in my apron
Dressed like a nigga had 8 proms
Tell shorty I may change
And I made it and I napalm
Trippy shit to watch
Drugs while on the clock
Acid on the face
That's a work of art
(Hook) (x4)
Acid Rap!
I don't even talk to them on the phone again
Leave in the AM, on the road again
So bitch, let's f*ck so I can smoke again
I gotta smoke again, I got shit to do
(Verse 3: Ab-Soul)
Soulo ho ho twerk somethin'
Throw it back like you tryna hurt somethin'
I'm so deaf, I ain't ever heard nothin'
My name herb, take herb, smoke herb (say word?)
How 'bout you? No dap, but I'll take a pound or two
No doubt like Gwen Stefani's group
Let me put my mouth where you potty, boo
(IGH!)
Them niggas pissed, need potty training
They movement shit, that's a potty train
She ain't left yet, but she probably came
We kicked it then I score, soccer game
She was a phony goalie
I got great aim though, don't insult me
I'll give it to ya straight, this is what she told me
My name Solo cause I'm the one and only
She only got you as a nigga on the side
That's a nigga on the side of a side bitch, homie
Then we got out a Dodge, like them Dukes of Hazzard
Music and tabs of Lucy, take your chance with this rapper
(Hook) (x4)
Acid Rap!
I don't even talk to them on the phone again
Leave in the AM, on the road again
So bitch, let's f*ck so I can smoke again
I gotta smoke again, I got shit to do
(Hook) (x2)
Acid Rap!
I don't even talk to them on the phone again
Leave in the AM, on the road again
So bitch, let's f*ck so I can smoke again
I gotta smoke again, I got shit to do
(Verse 1: Chance The Rapper)
Who smokin in my car?
It's that nigga Chano
AKA Mr. Bennett
AK Tony Montano
I've got some folks in low end
I got some folks in c-note
AK hundred dinero
You ever seen Casino?
I just got back with 'Bino
I got a bitch but she know
Her friends done did the Dino
That's that Chicago lingo
Flamin' hots with Cheese
And a kiwi Mistic
My dick won't even call her
Cause she left all that lipstick
Niggas be on dirt
That's why I stay on petty
I know that bangers jam
That's why my hands stay ready
Flip the candy yum
That's the f*cking bombest
Lean all on the square
That's a f*ckin' rhombus
(Hook) (x4)
Acid Rap!
I don't even talk to them on the phone again
Leave in the AM, on the road again
So bitch, let's f*ck so I can smoke again
I gotta smoke again, I got shit to do
(Verse 2: Chance the Rapper)
Who's sneaking in the club?
That's that young sir rapper
Un-saran wrap the purple
Wrap that blunt under after
Smoke all out the window
Cops could eat a dick
If you ain't the hitter
You just might be the lick
Flame on, flame on
I'm your bitch's ringtone
She like when I rap raps
But better when I sing songs
No Drake, but I get my Trey on
Killin' in the hood like Trayvon
Shoppin' like I got a coupon
Savin' like I got a cape on
Cookin' crack in my apron
Dressed like a nigga had 8 proms
Tell shorty I may change
And I made it and I napalm
Trippy shit to watch
Drugs while on the clock
Acid on the face
That's a work of art
(Hook) (x4)
Acid Rap!
I don't even talk to them on the phone again
Leave in the AM, on the road again
So bitch, let's f*ck so I can smoke again
I gotta smoke again, I got shit to do
(Verse 3: Ab-Soul)
Soulo ho ho twerk somethin'
Throw it back like you tryna hurt somethin'
I'm so deaf, I ain't ever heard nothin'
My name herb, take herb, smoke herb (say word?)
How 'bout you? No dap, but I'll take a pound or two
No doubt like Gwen Stefani's group
Let me put my mouth where you potty, boo
(IGH!)
Them niggas pissed, need potty training
They movement shit, that's a potty train
She ain't left yet, but she probably came
We kicked it then I score, soccer game
She was a phony goalie
I got great aim though, don't insult me
I'll give it to ya straight, this is what she told me
My name Solo cause I'm the one and only
She only got you as a nigga on the side
That's a nigga on the side of a side bitch, homie
Then we got out a Dodge, like them Dukes of Hazzard
Music and tabs of Lucy, take your chance with this rapper
(Hook) (x4)
Acid Rap!
I don't even talk to them on the phone again
Leave in the AM, on the road again
So bitch, let's f*ck so I can smoke again
I gotta smoke again, I got shit to do
Writer: CHANCELOR BENNETT, HERBERT ANTHONY STEVENS, JONATHAN KELLER, RICHARD PARRY
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Acid Rain
(Verse 1)
Kicked off my shoes, tripped acid in the rain
Wore my jacket as a cape, and my umbrella as a cane
The richest man rocks the snatch-less necklace
Spineless bitches in backless dresses
Wore my feelings on my sleeveless
My weed seedless, my trees leafless
I miss my diagonal grilled cheeses
And back when Mike Jackson was still Jesus
Before, I believed in not believing in
Yeah, I inhaled, who believed in me not breathing in
Cigarette stained smile all covered in sin
My big homie died young; just turned older than him
I seen it happen, I seen it happen, I see it always
He still be screaming, I see his demons in empty hallways
I trip to make the fall shorter
Fall quarter was just a tall order
And I'm hungry, I'm just not that thirsty
As of late, my verses seem not so verse-y
And all my words just mean controversy
Took the team up off my back like "that's not your jersey?"
Stressin', pullin' my hair out, hoping I don't get picked
All this medicine in me hoping I don't get sick
Making all this money hoping I don't get rich
Cause niggas still getting bodied for foams
(Verse 2)
Sometimes the truth don't rhyme
Sometime the lies get millions of views
Funerals for little girls, is that appealing to you?
From your cubicle desktop, what a beautiful view
I think love is beautiful, too
Building forts from broken dams, what a hoover could do
For future hoopers dead from Rugers shooting through the empty alley
Could've threw him an alley-oop, helping him do good in school
Damn that acid it burn when it clean ya
I still miss being a senior
And performing at all those open mic events
High schools, eyes closed seeing arenas
And I still get jealous of Vic
And Vic still jealous of me
But if you touch my brother
All that anti-violence shit goes out the window along with you
And the rest of your team
Smoking cigarettes to look cooler
I only stop by to look through ya
And I'm only getting greedier
And I'm still Mr. Youmedia
And I still can't find Talent
And I'm still choosing classmates that wouldn't f*ck
Mom still thinks I should go back to school
And Justin still thinks I'm good enough
And Mama Jan still don't take her meds
And I still be asking God to show his face
And I still be asking God to show his face
(Outro)
I am a new man, I am sanctified
Oh I am holy, I have been baptized
I have been born again, I am the White Light
Rain...rain don't go away
Kicked off my shoes, tripped acid in the rain
Wore my jacket as a cape, and my umbrella as a cane
The richest man rocks the snatch-less necklace
Spineless bitches in backless dresses
Wore my feelings on my sleeveless
My weed seedless, my trees leafless
I miss my diagonal grilled cheeses
And back when Mike Jackson was still Jesus
Before, I believed in not believing in
Yeah, I inhaled, who believed in me not breathing in
Cigarette stained smile all covered in sin
My big homie died young; just turned older than him
I seen it happen, I seen it happen, I see it always
He still be screaming, I see his demons in empty hallways
I trip to make the fall shorter
Fall quarter was just a tall order
And I'm hungry, I'm just not that thirsty
As of late, my verses seem not so verse-y
And all my words just mean controversy
Took the team up off my back like "that's not your jersey?"
Stressin', pullin' my hair out, hoping I don't get picked
All this medicine in me hoping I don't get sick
Making all this money hoping I don't get rich
Cause niggas still getting bodied for foams
(Verse 2)
Sometimes the truth don't rhyme
Sometime the lies get millions of views
Funerals for little girls, is that appealing to you?
From your cubicle desktop, what a beautiful view
I think love is beautiful, too
Building forts from broken dams, what a hoover could do
For future hoopers dead from Rugers shooting through the empty alley
Could've threw him an alley-oop, helping him do good in school
Damn that acid it burn when it clean ya
I still miss being a senior
And performing at all those open mic events
High schools, eyes closed seeing arenas
And I still get jealous of Vic
And Vic still jealous of me
But if you touch my brother
All that anti-violence shit goes out the window along with you
And the rest of your team
Smoking cigarettes to look cooler
I only stop by to look through ya
And I'm only getting greedier
And I'm still Mr. Youmedia
And I still can't find Talent
And I'm still choosing classmates that wouldn't f*ck
Mom still thinks I should go back to school
And Justin still thinks I'm good enough
And Mama Jan still don't take her meds
And I still be asking God to show his face
And I still be asking God to show his face
(Outro)
I am a new man, I am sanctified
Oh I am holy, I have been baptized
I have been born again, I am the White Light
Rain...rain don't go away
Writer: CHANCELOR JOHNATHAN BENNETT
Copyright: Lyrics © Non Skip Muzik
Copyright: Lyrics © Non Skip Muzik
Chain Smoker
Still a chain smoking
Name dropping
Good looking
Muh' f*cking
Motha, shut your mouth
(Hook)
Still a chain smoking
Name dropping
Good looking
Muh' f*cking
Motha, shut your mouth
Brain broken
Frank Ocean listening
Stain hitting, satin woodgrain gripping
Paint dripping
Motha, shut your mouth
(Verse 1)
somebody pray for the guy
oh lord
I wonder what might goes on
somethin' jammin' know we share a rappin' trappin' trippin'
sinnin' slipping fluent chewing vicodin
Shoulda died- yelling YOLO was a lie
And you a liar wonder why you wanna die so young
You and I look just alike
And I'm afraid that this one right here
Might be the last time that I write a song
A lot of niggas wanna go out with a bang
But I ain't tryin' to go out at all
So I ain't tryna go out the door
Got a lot of ideas coulda throw out the door
Last chance joint gotta be a dance joint
From an introspective drugged out standpoint
Throw vans joint, wanna hold hands joint
Old school for my old lone man joint
(Hook)
Still a chain smoking
Name dropping
Good looking
Muh' f*cking
Motha, shut your mouth
Brain broken
Frank Ocean listening
Stain hitting, satin woodgrain gripping
Paint dripping
Motha, shut your mouth
(Brigde)
This part right here, right now
Right here, this part my shit
I play this so loud in the Corrad
Forget to park my whip
I lean back, then spark my shit
I turn up, I talk my shit
Hope you love all of my shit
I hope you love all of my shit (IGH)
(Verse 2)
Why toss my filter when she saved my life?
The same shit that kills us, always feels so right
That's why I pray to the dear lord
God know who he be
Truth be told he juiced me
Introduced me to the lucy leaf
Oh oh oh, I seen the light, I lost my lighter
Big flip, kick to heaven and the bucket, f*ck your supplier
Lies, Levis on fire
Flyer on the wall I'm brighter
In the darkness of the night
In the sky I get higher, higher
(Hook)
Still a chain smoking
Name dropping
Good looking
Muh' f*cking
Motha, shut your mouth
Brain broken
Frank Ocean listening
Stain hitting, satin woodgrain gripping
Paint dripping
Motha, shut your mouth
(Brigde)
This part right here, right now
Right here, this part my shit
I play this so loud in the Corrad
Forget to park my whip
I lean back, then spark my shit
I turn up, I talk my shit
Hope you love all of my shit
I hope you love all of my shit (IGH)
(Hook)
Still a chain smoking
Name dropping
Good looking
Muh' f*cking
Motha, shut your mouth
Brain broken
Frank Ocean listening
Stain hitting, satin woodgrain gripping
Paint dripping
Motha, shut your mouth
Name dropping
Good looking
Muh' f*cking
Motha, shut your mouth
(Hook)
Still a chain smoking
Name dropping
Good looking
Muh' f*cking
Motha, shut your mouth
Brain broken
Frank Ocean listening
Stain hitting, satin woodgrain gripping
Paint dripping
Motha, shut your mouth
(Verse 1)
somebody pray for the guy
oh lord
I wonder what might goes on
somethin' jammin' know we share a rappin' trappin' trippin'
sinnin' slipping fluent chewing vicodin
Shoulda died- yelling YOLO was a lie
And you a liar wonder why you wanna die so young
You and I look just alike
And I'm afraid that this one right here
Might be the last time that I write a song
A lot of niggas wanna go out with a bang
But I ain't tryin' to go out at all
So I ain't tryna go out the door
Got a lot of ideas coulda throw out the door
Last chance joint gotta be a dance joint
From an introspective drugged out standpoint
Throw vans joint, wanna hold hands joint
Old school for my old lone man joint
(Hook)
Still a chain smoking
Name dropping
Good looking
Muh' f*cking
Motha, shut your mouth
Brain broken
Frank Ocean listening
Stain hitting, satin woodgrain gripping
Paint dripping
Motha, shut your mouth
(Brigde)
This part right here, right now
Right here, this part my shit
I play this so loud in the Corrad
Forget to park my whip
I lean back, then spark my shit
I turn up, I talk my shit
Hope you love all of my shit
I hope you love all of my shit (IGH)
(Verse 2)
Why toss my filter when she saved my life?
The same shit that kills us, always feels so right
That's why I pray to the dear lord
God know who he be
Truth be told he juiced me
Introduced me to the lucy leaf
Oh oh oh, I seen the light, I lost my lighter
Big flip, kick to heaven and the bucket, f*ck your supplier
Lies, Levis on fire
Flyer on the wall I'm brighter
In the darkness of the night
In the sky I get higher, higher
(Hook)
Still a chain smoking
Name dropping
Good looking
Muh' f*cking
Motha, shut your mouth
Brain broken
Frank Ocean listening
Stain hitting, satin woodgrain gripping
Paint dripping
Motha, shut your mouth
(Brigde)
This part right here, right now
Right here, this part my shit
I play this so loud in the Corrad
Forget to park my whip
I lean back, then spark my shit
I turn up, I talk my shit
Hope you love all of my shit
I hope you love all of my shit (IGH)
(Hook)
Still a chain smoking
Name dropping
Good looking
Muh' f*cking
Motha, shut your mouth
Brain broken
Frank Ocean listening
Stain hitting, satin woodgrain gripping
Paint dripping
Motha, shut your mouth
Writer: NATE NATHAN FOX, CHANCELOR BENNETT, FELIX PAPPALARDI, LESLIE WEINSTEIN, NORMAN LANDSBERG, JOHN VENTURA
Copyright: Lyrics © Walt Disney Music Company, Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Walt Disney Music Company, Universal Music Publishing Group
Everything's Good (Good Ass Outro)
[Skit:]
[Ken:] Well I should have you hooked up next week.
[Chance:] It's all good or whatever, I can wait 'til my birthday. I uh-
[Ken:] No, no, no, no. I told ya, I know you need it now, so next week I promise you I'll have you hooked up, ok?
[Chance:] Oh, alright. I just wanted to say thank you for everything. For the computer, the T-Shirts, and all the other stuff.
[Ken:] You know, Chance. Let me tell you something. You know, I could never be more proud of anything in my life, you know, than I am of you and what you've done. Chance, you have done remarkable and wondrous things, so you don't have to tell me thank you for anything. I'm supposed to do this, that stuff for you anyway, and ya know, just keep doing what you're doing. I am very, very proud of you. Just keep doing what you're doing, ok?
[Chance:] Thank you, love you.
[Ken:] Alright, son. Love you too, take care.
[Chance:] Bye bye.
Thanks for coming guys
'Member sittin' in class the first time listening to Dilla
Everything's good
Rubbin' on yo chin sippin gin, Margiela brand chinchilla
Everything's good
My manager backpack packed with packs of cigarillos,
And some fruit snacks, And some killa
Phone numbers on speed dial call em save monkey gorillas
Everything's good
I ain't really that good at goodbyes,
I ain't really that bad at leaving,
I ain't really always been a good guy, I used to be thirsty thievin'
Runnin through purses even persons leave em hurtin' bleedin
I ain't really help the helpless
I used to be worse than worthless
Now I'm worth hooks and verses
I'm good like books in churches
Harolds and Hooks and Churches
Everything's Good
See my name when you google search it
Use a card when I make a purchase
Everything's Good
But I knew it was fly when I was just a caterpillar
That I'd make it even if I never make a milla,
When I meet my maker he gon' make sure that we chillin'
And everything's good
I ain't really that good at goodnight, I ain't really that bad at sleepin
With bad bitches, put them aside, I used to be thirsty creeping
Now I'm out working evenings birthdays even tuesdays wednesdays thursdays weekends, rehearsing verses, murdering merch and events,
Damn it feel good to be a gangsta,
And it feel good for me to thank you,
Put money back in your bank account,
Off of songs I barely could think up,
Cause a lot of songs niggas gon' make up,
Make sense, but they never gon' make a sound,
I'm better than I was the last time, crescendo,
Thanks Justin lendin them pencils
Mr. Menzies, Mensa, Chris Minto
The time I beat Chris on Nintendo
Nanana hey hey,, good intro,
Remember jacket shoppin' after listening to Thriller,
Remember the first time we heard this dude and thought damn that's that nigga,
Everything's good.
[Ken:] Well I should have you hooked up next week.
[Chance:] It's all good or whatever, I can wait 'til my birthday. I uh-
[Ken:] No, no, no, no. I told ya, I know you need it now, so next week I promise you I'll have you hooked up, ok?
[Chance:] Oh, alright. I just wanted to say thank you for everything. For the computer, the T-Shirts, and all the other stuff.
[Ken:] You know, Chance. Let me tell you something. You know, I could never be more proud of anything in my life, you know, than I am of you and what you've done. Chance, you have done remarkable and wondrous things, so you don't have to tell me thank you for anything. I'm supposed to do this, that stuff for you anyway, and ya know, just keep doing what you're doing. I am very, very proud of you. Just keep doing what you're doing, ok?
[Chance:] Thank you, love you.
[Ken:] Alright, son. Love you too, take care.
[Chance:] Bye bye.
Thanks for coming guys
'Member sittin' in class the first time listening to Dilla
Everything's good
Rubbin' on yo chin sippin gin, Margiela brand chinchilla
Everything's good
My manager backpack packed with packs of cigarillos,
And some fruit snacks, And some killa
Phone numbers on speed dial call em save monkey gorillas
Everything's good
I ain't really that good at goodbyes,
I ain't really that bad at leaving,
I ain't really always been a good guy, I used to be thirsty thievin'
Runnin through purses even persons leave em hurtin' bleedin
I ain't really help the helpless
I used to be worse than worthless
Now I'm worth hooks and verses
I'm good like books in churches
Harolds and Hooks and Churches
Everything's Good
See my name when you google search it
Use a card when I make a purchase
Everything's Good
But I knew it was fly when I was just a caterpillar
That I'd make it even if I never make a milla,
When I meet my maker he gon' make sure that we chillin'
And everything's good
I ain't really that good at goodnight, I ain't really that bad at sleepin
With bad bitches, put them aside, I used to be thirsty creeping
Now I'm out working evenings birthdays even tuesdays wednesdays thursdays weekends, rehearsing verses, murdering merch and events,
Damn it feel good to be a gangsta,
And it feel good for me to thank you,
Put money back in your bank account,
Off of songs I barely could think up,
Cause a lot of songs niggas gon' make up,
Make sense, but they never gon' make a sound,
I'm better than I was the last time, crescendo,
Thanks Justin lendin them pencils
Mr. Menzies, Mensa, Chris Minto
The time I beat Chris on Nintendo
Nanana hey hey,, good intro,
Remember jacket shoppin' after listening to Thriller,
Remember the first time we heard this dude and thought damn that's that nigga,
Everything's good.
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher