Ask about tomorrow
I don't know
My last day to take a breath
But I got hope
If 2020 Donald Trump
Then I don't vote
You niggas corny
But I ain't talkin elote yea
I'm feeling okay yea
As long I got money
On my worst day yea
I used to pick up checks
I worked at Subway yea
And now I'm honcho chef
You need to obey okay yea
You feeling so scandalous
I'm throwing a party, in my apartment
Cleaning the damages
You niggas don't notice the struggle
Being lacking and it's anger management
That's why you be trippin at Popeyes
And killing for sandwiches
You niggas can't handle it
You people that worship the devil
And honestly I'm not a fan of it
Cause I just be killing shows
I'm hot like a candle lit
Know that I keep me a good team
Like Eli Tomlanovich
Niggas get 1,000 streams and don't know how to act
Stumble in DMs saying they gon blow out her back
Get blocked, realize they ain't got it like that
They see a nigga doing better, then they go and attack
You ain't been the man since high school, if I may ask, why you
Walking round like burners ain't a thing and they won't fry you?
Or KO like Ryu if you step like you cannot be touched
Stain that windbreaker, take back the clout that you got from us
I mean shit, bro, I knew you was a lame from the get go
Pink hat made you ask where your chick go, she all fours on the floor then she dip low
See you dropping heart eyes on her story, she with me, she gon see and ignore it
Cause I'm taking her out for Elotes, that's ironic cause we know you corny
So give it up, put your phone down, don't hit her up
Model X doors, I lift it up, your whip broke down, you Lyft it up
I don't got the time for no one claiming that they do it bigger
Compliments to Chef Dee because he let me cook these niggas
Ask about tomorrow
I don't know
My last day to take a breath
But I got hope
If 2020 Donald Trump
Then I don't vote
You niggas corny
But I ain't talkin elote yea
I'm feeling okay yea
As long I got money
On my worst day yea
I used to pick up checks
I worked at Subway yea
And now I'm honcho chef
You need to obey okay yea
Chef Dee - Elote (feat. Miles Canady) Lyrics
Chef Dee - Elote (feat. Miles Canady) Lyrics
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English
Ask about tomorrow
I don't know
My last day to take a breath
But I got hope
If 2020 Donald Trump
Then I don't vote
You niggas corny
But I ain't talkin elote yea
I'm feeling okay yea
As long I got money
On my worst day yea
I used to pick up checks
I worked at Subway yea
And now I'm honcho chef
You need to obey okay yea
You feeling so scandalous
I'm throwing a party, in my apartment
Cleaning the damages
You niggas don't notice the struggle
Being lacking and it's anger management
That's why you be trippin at Popeyes
And killing for sandwiches
You niggas can't handle it
You people that worship the devil
And honestly I'm not a fan of it
Cause I just be killing shows
I'm hot like a candle lit
Know that I keep me a good team
Like Eli Tomlanovich
Niggas get 1,000 streams and don't know how to act
Stumble in DMs saying they gon blow out her back
Get blocked, realize they ain't got it like that
They see a nigga doing better, then they go and attack
You ain't been the man since high school, if I may ask, why you
Walking round like burners ain't a thing and they won't fry you?
Or KO like Ryu if you step like you cannot be touched
Stain that windbreaker, take back the clout that you got from us
I mean shit, bro, I knew you was a lame from the get go
Pink hat made you ask where your chick go, she all fours on the floor then she dip low
See you dropping heart eyes on her story, she with me, she gon see and ignore it
Cause I'm taking her out for Elotes, that's ironic cause we know you corny
So give it up, put your phone down, don't hit her up
Model X doors, I lift it up, your whip broke down, you Lyft it up
I don't got the time for no one claiming that they do it bigger
Compliments to Chef Dee because he let me cook these niggas
Ask about tomorrow
I don't know
My last day to take a breath
But I got hope
If 2020 Donald Trump
Then I don't vote
You niggas corny
But I ain't talkin elote yea
I'm feeling okay yea
As long I got money
On my worst day yea
I used to pick up checks
I worked at Subway yea
And now I'm honcho chef
You need to obey okay yea
I don't know
My last day to take a breath
But I got hope
If 2020 Donald Trump
Then I don't vote
You niggas corny
But I ain't talkin elote yea
I'm feeling okay yea
As long I got money
On my worst day yea
I used to pick up checks
I worked at Subway yea
And now I'm honcho chef
You need to obey okay yea
You feeling so scandalous
I'm throwing a party, in my apartment
Cleaning the damages
You niggas don't notice the struggle
Being lacking and it's anger management
That's why you be trippin at Popeyes
And killing for sandwiches
You niggas can't handle it
You people that worship the devil
And honestly I'm not a fan of it
Cause I just be killing shows
I'm hot like a candle lit
Know that I keep me a good team
Like Eli Tomlanovich
Niggas get 1,000 streams and don't know how to act
Stumble in DMs saying they gon blow out her back
Get blocked, realize they ain't got it like that
They see a nigga doing better, then they go and attack
You ain't been the man since high school, if I may ask, why you
Walking round like burners ain't a thing and they won't fry you?
Or KO like Ryu if you step like you cannot be touched
Stain that windbreaker, take back the clout that you got from us
I mean shit, bro, I knew you was a lame from the get go
Pink hat made you ask where your chick go, she all fours on the floor then she dip low
See you dropping heart eyes on her story, she with me, she gon see and ignore it
Cause I'm taking her out for Elotes, that's ironic cause we know you corny
So give it up, put your phone down, don't hit her up
Model X doors, I lift it up, your whip broke down, you Lyft it up
I don't got the time for no one claiming that they do it bigger
Compliments to Chef Dee because he let me cook these niggas
Ask about tomorrow
I don't know
My last day to take a breath
But I got hope
If 2020 Donald Trump
Then I don't vote
You niggas corny
But I ain't talkin elote yea
I'm feeling okay yea
As long I got money
On my worst day yea
I used to pick up checks
I worked at Subway yea
And now I'm honcho chef
You need to obey okay yea
Writer: D'Andre Pyke, Miles Canady
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid