Young Chris Lay Low (feat. Meek Mill & Freeway)
"Maybach Music!" Division 1
Bought a brand new loft, five thousand dollars a month
Bitch, my sour's expensive, one hundred dollars a blunt
Only smoke if it's proper, in the words of the Poppa
Rush his ass to the doctor
Detectives askin', "Who shot ya?"
Blocka blocka, on his ass with the choppers
[?] chicken like soccer
While it's poppin', it's poppin'
Twenty bitches around us
I just slide her the number
Soon as she hit me, I count her
I canary the pinky, hit her right like winky
Got the club looking cloudy
For the love of the stinky
In a 600 Benz, couple bitches they're friends
And we just getting started
These haters wish it would end
Brown-nosing these hoes, niggas fishing again
She swallow it all, she drop my kid on her chin
Niggas left me for dead, bitch I'm living again
Special shout to Division, they see my vision to win
Know it's a party, when you see the sparkles
They coming on top of couches, bitches surround us
We blunted, travel the globe, stop through your town
And run it, so let 'em know
Tell them hoes tonight we blowing a hundred
'Cause we muthafuckin' paid ho
And got the green, blow that paper like the haze, ho
Life is a beach, I'm in the sun
With my shades, ho
After the club
We take the baddest bitch and lay low
Hey ho! Hey ho!
After the club we get the baddest bitch and lay low
Hey ho! Hey ho!
After the club we get the baddest bitch and lay low
Maserati dippin', this cost me a chicken
Neck cost me a billi'
