Stackin’ Chips
Title | Stackin’ Chips |
---|---|
Artist | 3X Krazy |
Album | Stackin Chips |
Release Date | 1997-04-08 |
Description | ? |
Lyrics | [Verse 1: Keak Da Sneak] All draped in teal Givin' 'em somethin' they can feel You can call me the Man Of Steel Kryptonite couldn't kill Givin' all breezies the chills Bumping Keep It On The Real And you blindfolded If you thought I wasn't gone make a mil' Been trying to further since the sixth grade It's urgent that I get paid Flowamatic when my shit's laid And representing that 3 Kray' Mind set on one thang (What's that?) That scrilla scratch pay Two strikes, hit of the day And just kick it like Xscape Some suckers hate But not dem playa, man they love me And always got something to say on guppies looking lovely Smelly Me, Big B and Charlie Rolling spiffy And spinning like the rear end of a nifty I strictly, dig the breezies on me Hit the cock, something lav, then I pass it to my homie Tricks be phony Paging me and B at the same time Seeing who'll call back first but ABBA ABBA ain't mine I gots no time to wine and dine Cause once they've been on the phone it's just a waste of time Off the Rhine And blunts, them stunts be devastatin' Pistols out the window, shoot while the whole car figure-eightin' [Hook: Bart and Agerman] I'm trying to stack my chips So I, clock a grip Then I, make some hits And I, take a sip So I, sticks to scripts Hits my licks It ain't nothing like them big head green dead presidents [Verse 2: Bart] Let a nigga change your Franklins They don't take shits in the telly [?] and ready for fetti so bring the steak and spaghetti Niggas done let me Dig deep in they fucking grab bag Can't slip, cause deep in they wallets is where my cash at I'm on a, first come, first serve basis When I, hit the casinos, I'm headed out Reno to Vegas Stacking potatoes, no matter the cause or consequence Evident, I'm about my scratch and I'm about to represent Through the crowd, reeking aloud of Omega Fresh out like Mike but coming back like the Raiders Uh, I kill 'em in my gators, just pimping and players Linens, cannolis and Rollies, I'm headed straight to the tailors Could give a fuck I'm in Vegas Bitch, so blaze up the dank From Killa Cali to Bali, then sit as Ceaser's for steaks These bitches beggin' for plates So they touching sidewalks and bullets Better prepare for the schooling Never worry I'm overruling Don't talk till ya do it Plus pissy drunk off the fluid Hookers, good luck at the crookin', looking for B.A. to do it? I can't wait for the mission to killin' Just getting scrilla from kid stacks millions 500 drop on the spot on top of the ceiling That's on the reala, a pimp in my, fucking rhyme Like 'Ball and MJG make sure you call it like you see it Just a genius, I know ya seen us, in the wind So perving is just a matter of time before I do you in Off the gin, 500 Benz, got me slidin' So bury the player haters and knock the game out the line You might also like[Hook: Bart and Agerman] I'm trying to stack my chips So I, clock a grip Then I, make some hits And I, take a sip So I, sticks to scripts Hits my licks It ain't nothing like them big head green dead presidents I'm trying to stack my chips So I, clock a grip Then I, make some hits And I, take a sip So I, sticks to scripts Hits my licks It ain't nothing like them big head green dead presidents [Verse 3: Agerman] It's going down in the Bay Flossin' cold cash around your area Thought you heard of a nigga that's stackin' mo' chips Than the Bank Of America Droppin' them bombs like a specialist Finger done eager to kill 'em all up Murderous mind, no misdemeanor Listen to the bark comin', I go buck Sparkin' off the krayzomatic Sparkin' up my bluntomatic Stackin' chips up in the attic Buckin' 'em every time with the Flowamatic Get ready to get dusted Fill up the bag with all your cash or catch a blast No bluff we bustin' So run it everybody, go do yo math by A.G.E the sick-o-path Lift you up outta yo shoes for runnin' your mouth Hit 'em up with the pump then put him in the trunk with the bump Krazy, mistreat that ass I'ma slide wit' a clip and a gat that'll blast Talking like some loud mouth batch is enough to have that ass subtracted They claiming they be jacking But I'm a tell you niggas be acting when they rapping Got shit full blown ass backwards Prolly got a lil' strap but scared to bust a strap Come around my way bustin' strap Nigga I'm talking 'bout bustin' back It results in this money and the power Making about a G an hour Runnin' machines around this bitch that'll buck to ya cowards And I ain't forgot about what you said ho Nigga you'll come up missing from that lead smoke Gat that ass, fully Mac that ass, another dead foe Hit him up, get him up, pick him up I pop my trunk, no need for the ambulance That boy ain't getting up Call the coroner to pick him up Zip him up, split him up, technical choppin' him up Funk got big enough fucking with the rigg him up Light him up, sickaluff get sick enough Gotta get my cash just like Mitchell Get your cats before they get you It's clear as the picture in my 600 Benz That I'm out for my dead presidents [Hook: Bart and Agerman] I'm trying to stack my chips So I, clock a grip Then I, make some hits And I, take a sip So I, sticks to scripts Hits my licks It ain't nothing like them big head green dead presidents I'm trying to stack my chips So I, clock a grip Then I, make some hits And I, take a sip So I, sticks to scripts Hits my licks It ain't nothing like them big head green dead presidents I'm trying to stack my chips So I, clock a grip Then I, make some hits And I, take a sip So I, sticks to scripts Hits my licks It ain't nothing like them big head green dead presidents I'm trying to stack my chips So I, clock a grip Then I, make some hits And I, take a sip So I, sticks to scripts Hits my licks It ain't nothing like them big head green dead presidents |