Chance The Rapper feat. Young Thug – Big B’s Lyrics

Lyrics “Big B’s” – Chance The Rapper feat. Young Thug

Handful of homies, real big Bentleys
Hublot, ni*gas bit ’em
Whole lotta hoes, ni*ga’s women, heh
Stuffed with a pole, come and get your women ni*ga
Big business, talk shit Wendy Williams, oh
Catch ’em at the club sipping, f*ck around the missing, hold on

Big pimping, I just got my crew on mission, complete
Pimp C, I ain’t doing that, I’ma f*ck her on the sheets, yeah
And all my ni*gas loyal like Bun B, hold on
f*ck you thought.. YSL till we d-i-e, hold on, hold on
f*ck around and set the bi*ch off like Queen Latifah
Hold on, hold on, yeah, going out like my dog Scooby
And a ni*ga trap door swinging like Bizzy B, woah

Outdated temporary tag on a Bentley B
Two tone wire bag, double R, park it on the streets, yeah, hold on
Two tone wire bag, big tires tear up the streets, rwar
Looking at your kid, I might be the papi
65 pointers and the Cuban cheeks
Diamonds on the backside tearing up my skin, sheesh
Uh, your old man tryna do it like me, sheesh

Please, please
Treat me like you know who I am
Please, please
B*tch I know who I am, uh

I got money on my card
Put some money on they books, that’s a yard
I declare war on the beast for my God, sheesh
Gross 3 mil off the new hat
If I could go back, I make the two cap
Love me in my city like Cusack
Get a little beat, now I’ll loop that
Get a little money, I’ll hoop that
Split it with my ni*gas in the group chat
Left for a minute then I flew back

Had to ask Bruce.. where the truth at
Had to ask Ron.. where the truth at
Now I can’t ride with the roof back
Tell ’em I don’t play around with other people’s kids
Got an office in the steakhouse
Gotta bid for the ribs
Got a meeting at the Ritz
Gave a trip to my rib
‘Cause she leaving where I live but I see her in a min
Got a Michael prayer card for the good luck, ay
Bra push up when I pull up, ay

Got a little money from the tour, yeah
Spend it all on baby pull ups, ay
Big old Bentley, bi*ch I mix the Henny with the Simply
Lemonade exterior, Lorenzos under Bentleys
Put you in the friend zone if you start acting too friendly
Bought a baby Benzo it’s a kidzo just for Kensli
Wake up real early but I eat late
Go and hit the streets with that brief case
Time to shake down another cheap skate
You could tell he’s lying, cheesecake

Make a ni*ga bi*ch jump out
Then put you in the fours with the real big body
B*tch said ni*ga need to stop got 100 racks on me
Can’t fit in my pocket
I’m a street ni*ga, I’ma eat, we suit, I’ma let my bi*ch eat bossy
Told y’all ni*gas ain’t stopping
Black card in my wallet, I’ma feed my partner
I was at one of my shows feeling like Cam’ron with the pink Margielas

We was tryna be the murder capital, riding around the town with the pink Beretta
When I got in touch with the money, me and shawty f*cked around and flipped my schedule
Momma just sent me a bi*ch who got … through my God damn nana
Young ni*ga f*cked around, dropped out school, learned it all through the ID channel
Young ni*ga f*cked around and ranned out of bullets in the .40, got to get a banana
Young ni*gas brazy, done got that money, they still might pop
So many blue faces on me right now, young ni*ga still gambling
35 racks for the factories, I steal mammals
I ain’t no rapper ni*ga, I teach ya
I’m a big dog, no pedigree, I eat racks
Boomarang your bi*ch, she coming back

Please, please
Treat me like you know who I am
Please, please
B*tch I know who I am, uh…

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