(Verse 1). I wonder if Gladys smiles when angels bring my name up. Or change language and subject change up. Her boy's a long way from red dolls and green rangers.
I've got a lady, a lady friend. I've got a lady friend. I've got a lady and that lady is my. I've got a lady, I've got, I've got a lady. And that lady is my friend.
[Verse 1: Chance The Rapper]. Sparring is training. Chain snatching the slaves. But a rap song is a match in a cave. Dim lit, wet wick, wicked rapping it's way.
Thirsty, thirsty, tryna choose. I mean, I know I'm pretty cool. My Nitty bag, my kitty boost. I got the juice, I got the juice. . Chano, Chatham's own.
Yeah yeah yeah yeah. Yeah yeah yeah yeah. Yeah yeah yeah yeah. . What's better than tripping is falling in love. What's better than Letterman, Leno, Fallon, and all the above.
It's just me and la cucaracha tonight. Cold pizza with the hot Sriracha tonight. Apple TV, Comcast, don't know what to watch-a tonight. Shoulda had ya when I had ya, now I wish I gotcha tonight.
How great is our God. Sing with me, how great is our God. All will see how great is our God. How great is our God. Sing with me, how great is our God.
Young black boy, how he got the labels scared?. A&R's like, "Chano, you ain't playin' fair!. You gon' set a bad example for the average bear. You a Yogi, you should idle while in child's position".
Young black boy, how he got the labels scared?. A&R's like, "Chano, you ain't playin' fair!. You gon' set a bad example for the average bear. You a Yogi, you should idle while in child's position".
Uh uh uh uh uh uh. IGH!. Nana naaaaa. Yup. Wooooh, ah!. Nanana. . Related. . 15 Huge Stars Who Were Backup Singers First. . NEW SONG: Taylor Swift - 'Lover' - LYRICS.
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Do-do-do-do-do-do-do. Do-do-do-do-do-do-do. Do-do-do-do-do-do-do. Do-do-do-do-do. And we back, and we back, and we back, and we back. Do-do-do-do-do-do-do.
Chance, acid rapper, soccer, hacky sacker. Cocky khaki jacket jacker. Slap-happy faggot slapper. A Rocky rocket launcher. Shake that laffy taffy, jolly raunchy rapper.
All. All, all, all. All (the things). All (the things, things). All (that glitters is not gold). All, all, all (And all gold is not reality. Real is what you lays on me).
Ladies loving my music is like some sex shit. Niggas trying to grip up my mic like it's a dick (On the mic like it's a dick). Run around the corner to pick up the new shit (The shit).
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Chance The Rapper. Cigarettes on cigarettes, my mama think I stank. I got burn holes in my hoodies, all my homies think it's dank. I miss my cocoa butter kisses.
Still a chain smoking. Name dropping. Good looking. Muh' fucking. Motha, shut your mouth. Brain broken. Frank Ocean listening. Stain hitting, satin woodgrain gripping.
I burned too many Brain Cells down. To be worried bout my Brain Cells Now [x4]. Here's a tab of acid for your ear. You're the plastic, I'm the passion and the magic in the air.
Heads bowed for the curly haired sons of Abraham. Dear father, guide all my brothers away from Sam. If they ever get caught let's hope they shake that jam.