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healthy chill - designer كلمات الأغنية

[chorus: healthy chill]
whole lot of designers, but ain’t n0body robbin’ me
now you so bad, baby it’s a robbery
look at them hatin’, but they ain’t nothin’ but bottom feedin’
young n-gga with that sack, young n-gga with that sack on me
just a young n-gga with a sack, young n-gga with a sack on me
young n-gga with a sack, young n-gga keep that strap on me
i’m a young n-gga with a sack, young n-gga with a sack on me
young n-gga with a sack, you know i keep them sticks on me

[verse 1: gucci mane]
as soon as that money change hands then my mind p-ss
half real and half misty, have to get one off bad
came up on ’em and said it was clean but half-ss
i lost the pack, not stressin’ that ’cause god gon’ give my blessin’ back
me, peewee, and fendi we spent fifty, who are those cats?
three-sixty on a bentley, told ’em give me that, who does that?
i think i’m david copperfield, pull rabbits out a f-ckin’ hat
i’m silent rappin’, rabbit food a gangster move, i need a sack
i take your b-tch and giver her back, got so much cash, can’t tote it all
twin range rovers called ‘caine and crack, so many cars, still ain’t drove ’em all
my kiko got players throwin’ grenades and they’ll explode the wall
some choppers and that gasolina ’cause guwop tryna server the wall

[verse 2: healthy chill]
i’m gettin’ to a sack, they wanna know where it’s at now
i’m gettin’ to a check, boy i’m talkin’ ’bout right now
young n-gga from the trap, young n-gga not rap
young n-gga i’m blowin’ up quick, everybody like how you do that
f-ck up a check, i’ma get it back
n-ggas be talkin’ that chitter chat
i be that n-gga, bring my city back
sour diesel, boy we ain’t into that
diamonds are dancin’ like diddy
no talkin’, my n-gga we with it
look at my diamonds just dancin’
look at my rollie just dancin’
whole lotta designer, still gucci, louis, no prada
i come from the bottom, i be k!llin’ sh-t to be honest
i’m in a foreign, i’m with your b-tch ’cause she borin’
met her while tourin’, she give me neck while you goin’, hey

[verse 3: yfn lucci]
you know we havin’ sticks like chop
know we havin’ big old gwap
know if a n-gga ever touch somethin’ then you know that b-tch got popped
i told unc put me in the kitchen, you know my wrist don’t lock
and it took a lot of baking soda to put my wrist on rock
yeah hey, tick tock
big face look like a big clock
four-five, yeah the big glock
all these bags, we need six glocks
if he lame we serve him sheetrock
yeah the porsche plain but it’s a t-top
the cl-ssic one, no reebok
this the last one, we gotta restock
uh, know my n-gga healthy with me, yeah
healthy life, if he prayed, pay the price, yeah
make him pay it twice
healthy life, if he play, play it twice, yeah

- healthy chill

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