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chase racks - politicking lyrics
[verse 1: chase racks]
i used to walk em’ down the freeway
get an opp for his chain and flip on ebay
i flip packs of gas like speedway
getting fast to the bag, it’s f_ck what he say
come out brody, why you hiding?
in a v with my chop, i get to sliding
me and my guys be always plotting
spin a block, send a shot, and now its silent
[chorus: chase racks]
run up on bro and i cl!cked at his mans
like
they politic cause they fans
shoot two, shoot three, know i’m good with my hands
like
spreading my cash like jam
my bread always stashed, got racks, no scams
huh
sprinter, catch up in a van
he really not bout’ it, i shot and he ran
i’ll k!ll him, my chop finna blow like a fan
[verse 2: chase racks]
cap and he lied about living in projects
catch you outside with my guys, you gon’ die next
i’m still on timing, i got it and got checks
f_ck what you thought, know the city said i’m next
can’t repost, ain’t no free promo
spinning the opp block dolo
sending em’ shots with my pole, said yolo
me and my guys go loco
i really run sh_t like the president
two_three shots, knock out all his melanin
it’s really static, we gon’ settle it
imma dip from the scene and leave no evidence
still doing me, i’m in my element
opps fall off, whole time i be relevant
run up, turn a body to a skeleton
turn nothing into something, call it excellence
[chorus: chase racks]
run up on bro and i cl!cked at his mans
like
they politic cause they fans
shoot two, shoot three, know i’m good with my hands
like
spreading my cash like jam
my bread always stashed, got racks, no scams
huh
sprinter, catch up in a van
he really not bout’ it, i shot and he ran
i’ll k!ll him, my chop finna blow like a fan
run up on bro and i cl!cked at his mans
like
they politic cause they fans
shoot two, shoot three, know i’m good with my hands
like
spreading my cash like jam
my bread always stashed, got racks, no scams
huh
sprinter, catch up in a van
he really not bout’ it, i shot and he ran
i’ll k!ll him, my chop finna blow like a fan
[verse 3: chase racks]
i keep a chop on my side on my bedstand
opp run inside, imma cl!ck with my left hand
you not outside, imma slide with my best man
finish the job, make it hot if my tech jam
stay doing me, and i be what i gotta be
t2mb and 23 is a part of me
see what i see, you won’t think how you thought of me
vs in my v, now your b wanna follow me
i know you capping
i know you heard of me
call my sh_t trash, i get racks you ain’t hurting me
you think you burning me?
i’ll give you third degree
i’ll k!ll him verbally, sh_t no concern to me
he said he getting it, tell him i’m winning it
i’ll really finish it, but he don’t get it
he finna lose it, push him to his limit
i make what he made in a decade in minutes
i really come up from motherf_cking snippets
he said he don’t f_ck with it, but he still listen
keep sh_t in wraps, all my moves he gon’ mimic
i pull up and spin and knock him out his fitted
not playin’ no games with my name i’m bout’ it
my range insane, got racks in my pockets
say sh_t in vain, i might back out a knoccer
my tape finna break em’, let’s make a deposit
(gang, gang, gang, gang)
c’mon man, already know how we f_cking rocking
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