Blue Chip Lyrics – Russ
Yeah, I just hit the joint before I wrote this
Record label rebel remember openin’ at Omens
Always saw the whole shit, always futuristic
2018, I made the Forbes Cash Kings list
The wave of depression and anxiety for Christmas
But I can never drown, I rose Kate Winslet
Gassed up, took a quick trip to my hometown
Girls that were curvin’ me turned into my hoes now
Beat straight from Motown, shoutout Mr. Porter
B-Dot and everybody, get your list in order
This the album of the year by a long shot
Barkin’ got your dog drop
Please, don’t tamper with my Bucks, Mike Alstott
I don’t care what y’all got, bitch, this is my shit
You ain’t ’bout to act like a baby in my crib
I wasn’t invited so I through my own party
Didn’t let me join, so I got my own army
I spoke harshly, once or twice boo-hoo, bitch
Didn’t matter still went from, “Who?” to, “Who’s who?” Bitch
Fuck a blue check, I’m a blue chip, reliable stock
I reached the end of my rope and I started tyin’ the knot
And held on, Delle Donne, my game’s ill
Lime with tequila or the heat to this J Will
Make skills appear like magic, pass it
Always been a King, I’ma share it if I have it
I should wear my numbers on my chest like a nickname
Tryna make the paper flip, I only play Squid Games
New York Knicks fame so she deepthroat
Your my D Rose then her knees broke
I’m the G.O, no bullshit
I don’t take word from a peasant who cheat the job
Never did a full pray to a reverend who preached a God
Never did a horse play adolescence and leave a scar
Some people lost faith, had the presence to beat the odds
So many after goals and hurdles for me to dodge
Put your face on a Tee then ask, “Can I see a large?”
I’m passionately involved
I hope to free us all but nothin’ can cost more
Than somethin’ that’s free of charge
They know that we at large, eatin’ shrimps in a lair
Can barely see the gods, get a glimpse of the glair
You attempt to be fair, put that whimp in arrear
Never cared what they think, never think that they cared
Don’t need another felony but you gon’ need therapy
When a couple shots make you shrink in that chair
Two drinks of that rare, can see no [?]
Me and my dude Russ, lose what?
We got your advance, spillin’ out two cups
Pool putt, you ain’t move up, get chewed up
Shoot what? The scoreboard broke, nigga, we two up
Woah Ran, slow down brother, they don’t know Ran
You like a Black Panther blarin’ outta them Bulls, man
Oh and, gun and my Lindsay, the Lohan, no scam
Nothin’ like Quincy, a slow jam
Program went from a tenspeed to a Broham
You don’t owe rent, that’s big cap like a old cam
Yeah, catch my wind like a monsoon
Cookin’ verses, shoot it up from a large bull
Sharks loom, better get scoobed again ahard pull
My nigga you can get CHOMP 2