As i stare at the ceiling fan, as a fan of these wicked streets
My #dollars turn in more #chips than fucking vending machines,
Of all burgers the chips
The jiggas and the tips
You need more assist than the handicapped kids, oh, shit
In that sense i spat chips of crack mixed with acid
Flooding flushes, poker chocolate chips, the biscuits soggy
Who didn't really care to see, or give a damn if she
So athletic at this rap game eat the track like chocolate chips
Everything at ease, you in double m g presence
Before a nigga finish put in the work
And dip the mashed potato covered
My life accelerated, but had to wait my turn
As the chips fall its all you got , to make em learn
Adams apple to sauce pages reference stacked chips
The dilemma is, you think i got no conscience
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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