Chuck Inglish - Tangerine lyrics
rate mefeat. Aston Matthews & Kashflow
93 beat, this base makes your face go numb
Yeah, I got it, got it by my drum
This shit will make your girl hang my poster on her wall
These little shooters get it, spend it all at the mall
Wear a white air force to the church and the prom
Preserving all week so it’s all he got on
Dog, my nigga saggin’ with the burner
T-shirt picture somebody who was murdered
Pull a 40 on the curb, caught a charge with the turn up
Next tail with the chirper, selling nigga a basket of purple
World star niggas, straight about the trap
He got money of the shits but he really can’t rap
He got ‘em a connect and he got that bag
And in broad day light shoot the shit out the strap
Though we got it all backwards you can tell him shit
If he had a thousand dollars probably try to buy a brick
He got it in that mattress, he never had a bank
I just try to keep ‘em safe, man, that’s how they play the game
Black work all in my demeanor
White girl, ’93 beamer
This base make your face go numb
Yeah, I got it and I got it by the drum
And my shooters got drums
And the money gonna come
And them chickens gonna run
Yeah, I got it and I got it by the drum
Y’all niggas chopping shells with the morning breath
Rock the diamonds dipped in crystal meth, hit the sack
Grip the tech, this war time is called a practice
You old dimes, he charge the address
Run up in it, wipe that whole bitch out
Pray your mama ain’t in it, check before you dip out
Hollow tips, hold ‘em off, no remorse
Just 501’s with tall t’s that tuck the torch
Young and reckless, he ain’t want your bitch who want your necklace
Get your neck split, never coming in with what he left with
Keep the seventh light left which
One question: do you got a death wish?
No goal, face tats with no future so hoe stay strapped, he gonna shoot you
Churp the burners, copping new ones, no talking to him
Just hope you don’t walk into him
Black work all in my demeanor
White girl, ’93 beamer
This base make your face go numb
Yeah, I got it and I got it by the drum
And my shooters got drums
And the money gonna come
And them chickens gonna run
Yeah, I got it and I got it by the drum
Hustled all winter, worked all spring
Ball all summer, killing the game
I say these niggas is rich but they don’t know how to dress, though
I put it in meth in many fresh, though
She said let’s all stop, I dripped on her
Me and Chuck and the dope boy whip on you
Young fellows building empires right in the track
Let’s put the real, trill me on the map
Now I’m riding around Cali smoking kush with a strap
A true hustler never smoking, dropping off packs
You ever been like what part of the game is death
49er when I’m getting out a nicker cap
Black work all in my demeanor
White girl, ’93 beamer
This base make your face go numb
Yeah, I got it and I got it by the drum
And my shooters got drums
And the money gonna come
And them chickens gonna run
Yeah, I got it and I got it by the drum
Black work all in my demeanor
White girl, ’93 beamer
This base make your face go numb
Yeah, I got it and I got it by the drum
