lirik lagu gringo the mc - plate of church's chicken $100 cup of lean
plate of church’s chicken, $100 cup of lean
on some broke bologna get some provolone between
feeling like the only one who reppin’ for the team
i got groupies and plane tickets but this sh-t ain’t what it seems
my issues are mine, how could you understand?
f-ckin’ with me wrong, you meet the back my hand
sometimes i get on planes, and hope that they don’t land
sometimes i f-ck your b-tch, sometimes i shake your hand
still ride with the tye all dyed and my day one brothers getting high all night
little avion with a lime on ice and my girl probably going to want to fight all night
’cause this chick that i know from an itty bitty town
sucks d-ck like a pro and the word got around
they roll it free when you’re as cold as me
that’s why i buy by the gram and i smoke by the pound
if you’re looking for the truth come see me
i ain’t run game i just sold her one cd
they ain’t gotta want me ’cause they about to need me
they ain’t gotta f-ck me, she just gotta feed me
i’ma run this sh-t like we up 35 and there’s 5 minutes left and you better believe me
real street, f-ck ’em all, we ain’t signing no treaties
i put on for my city like jeezy
plate of church’s chicken, $100 cup of lean
on some broke bologna get some provolone between
feeling like the only one who reppin’ for the team
i got groupies and plane tickets but this sh-t ain’t what it seems
i’m off these shiner boxes, yes b-tch i meant boxes
’cause i drank 50 of them b-tches and i still ain’t nauseous
so hold your horses, or get drug by your horses
i’m just looking for a good time i ain’t looking for no courtship
i hate court sh-t, that sh-t horse sh-t
wish the judge’s mama would have gotten an abortion
steal his darkest secrets make a fortune off extortion
spend the money on the homeless, on the hood, and on the orphans
and i, pull up, park, hustle, goons in the back and they all want trouble
the ughmerican dream, this crack for the kids and i’m looking for the money so i might charge double
still ain’t a motherf-cking square in the huddle
still smoke motherf-cking squares in the huddle
still don’t a rich folk care ’bout the struggle
so i stress while i work, pull a hair and a muscle
plate of church’s chicken, $100 cup of lean
on some broke bologna get some provolone between
feeling like the only one who reppin’ for the team
i got groupies and plane tickets but this sh-t ain’t what it seems
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