Chit Chat Lyrics – Token
Red
(Oh my God, Ronny)
Sit on the couch, ho
Pimp *** intro to outro
Rich and I’m shallow, spit like thinkin’ I might choke
Drink like Cinco de Mayo
Tints on the ride home, *** I’ve been tryna hide
Pop *** like Prince or a Michael
All white whip, it’s albino
By no means I’ma quit, I’ma die on top
Pop-pop to the enemy
Shot with a cop-cop tendency
Hot like I got-got felony
Gotta to be a dog, top, top, top pedigree
Give me top-top in the top-top mezzanine
While my opener on, right-right in front of me
Gotta *** three for the night to be fun to me
Swipe, swipe, check the price, all on me
Homie is the best, strap to your chest like, like dungaree
Enemy, I hold smoke, bro I’m chim-chimney
I’m Soho living but I’m homegrown mentally
I’m so-so wise that the homies tryna get like me
My bro-bro from Brooklyn, he call his timbs Timothy
A boatload of women like we’re goin’ on a trip
Don’t trip ’cause my bro’s clip so-so finicky
The slowmo ***’ with the cold-cold Hennessy
Put me at peace like when KC and JoJo sing to me
“What the ***?”
By 9 PM I need a possible *** at the crib (***)
Hop up in the sleigh with a big bag of gifts (***)
I don’t put my time into chitchat, I’m rich (***)
Hop up in a sleigh with a big bag of gifts (***)
Take it through the city and give back to kids (***)
When she get to toppin’, I Big Mac the *** (***)
I don’t put my time into chitchat, I’m rich
Rich, rich, rich, rich, rich
She *** like a celebrity more than me, uh-huh
I gotta repeat if she freak-freak, uh-huh
I never cheat-cheat but I see three of ’em
T-T, she call me T, I’m the boss and ***
Pray to that *** like it’s a cross and ***
G, Gs, C, Cs all on her bag and ***
Smack that ass, now it’s redder than some MAGA ***
Stuntin’ like my daddy when I’m snappin’ at the mic
Trigger-happy, kitty catty on my lap, I got the mice
Nice fanny pack, I got a couple K, and that’s light
“Baby, did you really make a inde milli?” That’s right
All the women pretty, more petty than that
Chameleon with everything because I really adapt
I line them up and I’m like Kanye and 50 in the Rolling Stone
Head to head to head to head to head to head to head
Treat the homies like a bread knife, break bread
I be tryna count the bread ’til I’m braindead
Fresh, so clean, I do what Andre said
Baby I ain’t from Atlanta, I look like a bank-head
Head of the bank offices
Credit with great confidence
‘Bouta cop the presidential, I never debate politics
Henny, I’m eight bottles in
Baby, I’m faded, take me to bed where the runway model is
***, what time is it? ‘Cause
“What the ***?”
By 9 PM I need a possible *** at the crib (***)
Hop up in the sleigh with a big bag of gifts (***)
I don’t put my time into chitchat, I’m rich (***)
Hop up in a sleigh with a big bag of gifts (***)
Take it through the city and give back to kids (***)
When she get to toppin’, I Big Mac the *** (***)
I don’t put my time into chitchat, I’m rich
Rich, rich, rich, rich, rich
