Chillin’ N Killin’ lyrics

[Intro]
Chilling and killing

[Chorus]
They still printing money try and get you some
They still making guns go on and get you one
I suggest you get you one
I suggest you get you one
They still printing money try and get you some
They still making guns go on and get you one
I suggest you get you one
I suggest you get you one

[Verse 1]
Blue hunnid dollar bills you think I’m cripping
Banana on a stick you think I’m slipping
Booty big, softer than ma leather seats
Quick, to slap you with my hand
Bout ma paper feet swinging
Chicken solo fake one you a duck back
He took it home and opened it like what the f*ck n*gga
Insta-thugging thinking I won’t set them up
I send my b*tch in yo DM and get you stuck yeah
I’m mack daddy, I’m dack strap
I’m dat riddy shout out ma n*gga mustard heavy that
I got a itchy trigger finger itching constant
I’m still that junky jilt that lost his conscience
[Chorus]
They still printing money try and get you some
They still making guns go on and get you one
I suggest you get you one
I suggest you get you one
They still printing money try and get you some
They still making guns go on and get you one
I suggest you get you one
I suggest you get you some

[Verse 2]
I’m still jamming plugs and I ain’t running off
A n*gga got asthma I can’t run that long
Ima shove this f*cking tech right down your f*cking neck
Ima catch a charge hit the boss calling home collect (hello)
Six figure bond paid it like a bond
My co-defendant pus*y and he played the part
I did voodoo and the victim never came to court
b*tch n*gga be the one I put the makeup on
They never stop making guns get you one
They never stop making ones get you some
Got a empty stomach with a full ranch
Ima hit you up and I don’t care who watching

[Chorus]
They still printing money try and get you some
They still making guns go on and get you one
I suggest you get you one
I suggest you get you one
They still printing money try and get you some
They still making guns go on and get you one
I suggest you get you one
I suggest you get you some
[Verse 3]
I got the AK-47 from the devil himself
Got this pot from the D-Boy who serving 30 to death
Trapped out my mama house till she found my bond
My big cousin said f*ck it come and count these ones
So much money in my face look like I ran in the bank
I was only 15 whipping a 4 in the saint
You outta sync petty paper b*tch we after the brink
I’m from the slums full of drugs n*ggas die by the link
Got a hunnid round extendo even when it ain’t beef
Still f*cking up foreigns even when it ain’t lease
Shout out to the robbers who still think I’m a slip
And shout out to the choppers with the tape on the clip

[Chorus]
They still printing money try and get you some
They still making guns go on and get you one
I suggest you get you one
I suggest you get you some