Luh Tyler - Ain't Come to Chill
Yeah, niggaAyy, ski, ski
Gang, gang, nigga
Ayy, nigga, yeah
Step inside the club, get it T'd up
I ain't come to chill, bitch, I came to pick this cheese up (on God)
Pull up to the stu', roll some trees up
Then a nigga walk inside the booth, fuck the beat up (nigga)
Cuban on my neck got me freezed up (ice, ice)
I don't even got my mask on, but I'm skied up (skii)
I'm in MIA with my feet up (yeah)
The only thing I really need is pape', I don't need love (I don't need love)
Who that talkin' down on me? Nigga, speak up (speak up)
Feel like Bugs Bunny, all these karats on my teeth, bruh (glee)
I ain't finished talkin' shit 'til the beat done (yeah)
All night in the booth, I ain't even get no sleep, cuz (on God)
Diamonds wet, think I got 'em out the sink, bruh (ice, ice)
Cuban on my wrist, bad bitch wanna link up (wanna link up)
Tryna pull me down, I don't even budge
Nigga mad 'cause I live the life that he dreamed of (nigga, what?)
Tryna pull me down, nigga, I won't let 'em (yeah)
Spit some rhymes on the beat, now we livin' better (yeah)
Swear my brodie love grabbin' P's, that's his favorite letter
Put her on her knees, then I act like I ain't never met her
Cruisin' through the city chasin' cheese, tryna get that cheddar (yeah)
I'ma have that bitch screamin, "Ski" when I put that leg up (ski)
Nigga told me that he goin' broke, told him keep his head up (uh)
Took his bitch and made her give me throat, now she say she fed up (uh, uh)
Told my dog it's time to ball, let's go stack them bands up (yeah)
Got your lil' bitch out her drawers, tell her pick her pants up (nigga)
Brodie got somethin' in the car, make you put your hands up (grrah)
Nigga, I stayed on the grind, now my neck and wrist is bust (ice)
We gon' make it to the top, tell them niggas, "Just trust"
On the stage at the party, watch the fans go nuts
Bitch, I'm higher than a kite, what the fuck I rolled up? (Rolled up what?)
Brodie got that shh in, tell 'em come and score somethin' (come and score)
Nigga grindin' all winter, pop shit the whole summer
It ain't shit to spend these bands (yeah), nigga, I know more comin' (on God)
Hit me up without no hands, damn, lil' shawty know somethin' (uh)
Broke as hell, niggas model, well, go start a GoFundMe (what?)
You talkin' cash, pull it out, let's see who got the most money (me, nigga)
I'm with his bitch, he like, "Damn, Tyler took my ho from me" (yeah)
Them pink fifties and them blues, yeah, I got 'em both on me (yeah, yeah)
He think he seein' Mr. Skii, huh, lil' bro funny
Step inside the club, get it T'd up (yeah)
I ain't come to chill, bitch, I came to pick this cheese up (on God)
Pull up to the stu', roll some trees up
Then a nigga walk inside the booth, fuck the beat up (well, damn)
Cuban on my neck got me freezed up
I don't even got my mask on, but I'm skied up (skii)
I'm in MIA with my feet up (yeah)
The only thing I really need is pape', I don't need love (what?)
Yeah, uh, uh
Only thing I really need is pape', I don't need love
Yeah, nigga
Shoo-shoo-shoo, skii
Written by:
Jack Thierer, Slayer, Tyler Meeks
Publisher:
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
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