Joyner Lucas

The Cha Cha

Joyner Lucas ft. Jamal Black

LETRA

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Uh uh uh whoo whoo uh yeah uh yeah whoo
Uh uh yeah uh yeah whoo whoo uh uh
Got some motherfuckin' Ciroc in the buildin'
And I got some motherfuckin' Henny in the buildin' too
And I got my nigga J Black in here too
And I got my nigga Ave in here too
And I got my nigga Azi in here too
My nigga Kev in here too

[Verse 1] (Joyner Lucas, Jamal Black)
Say I'll do my thing just because I need to fuck what you hoe niggas thinking?
Tryna make it all stat with the cash in a wrap and I'm fuckin' your hoes on the weekend
Maybe pass in the back now I'm passing the black matter fact how you hoes wanna do this?
Super stupid, dark as chocolate, big pocket, Joyner Lucas
I'm a fool, let me get it all too
Fuck your girl in the pillow I'll drool
Fuck this world, when I fuck your girl, Imma flex so hard when I fuckin' curl
You feel it, haters stoppin', Trayvon Martin, but gun concealin'
I pop if you [?], man give you balls, you ain't feeling it, uh
Y'all niggas ain't cool, y'all niggas ain't hot, y'all niggas ain't nothing different
Y'all niggas ain't do the most [?], y'all niggas ain't even pimpin'
Probably got your bitches dry as fuck and I keep it drippin'
Ay ay, with your baby, you keep her sober, I keep her sippin'
Big difference, from bitchin' pitchin', switchin' words to a vision and flippin' birds in the kitchen, they slick, conversing with women the frickin' nerve of you niggas
Tryna tell us that we ain't the greatest
We love to love and give the same to haters
Can't fade away, let's just play to play this
I'm good, these niggas just mad 'coz me and my niggas got hoes on speed dial
So they hittin' they phone and they don't pick up and they hang once more with the redial
Leased out when I pee now
Probably fuck dirty bitches and you when I'm senile
Future's what I see now, take a puff of the blunt if you really wanna see how
Rappers, gangstas, killers, smokers, bunch of niggas with feelings
Models, hoes, and strippers, hookers, bunch of bitches with children
What you think is appealing me I be fighting the feeling
Just livin' life in the ceilin', ain't gotta like it but feel it

Get you, get you, ya ya
The killers on the corner
That hit you with the chopper
Then make you do the cha cha
Make you do the cha cha
Then make you do the cha cha
The killers on the corner
They make you do the cha cha
Get you, get you, ya ya
The killers on the corner
That hit you with the chopper
Then make you do the cha cha
Make you do the cha cha
Then make you do the cha cha
Then hit you with the chopper
They make you do the cha cha

[Verse 2] (Joyner Lucas, Jamal Black)
And I know these niggas just mad 'coz me and J Black got hoes on speed dial
Better ride on out, cut your eyeballs out until you look at me now
And I spit so hard you can dive inside my drool, go swimming and float
By the stop sign too with a woman and hoes on the outside too
I'm hot times 2 times 6 times 7, eight breaks inside my crib when I tie my shoe
Gotta hide my shit, when I ride by you, finna pop my shit, better stop that shit you know better
If I ain't got it I get it, go get it, you got it, I'm a goddamn go-getter
If you knew better you'd do better bet I'm better than you niggas don't know better
How the hell you feelin'? I'm feelin' all great, I'm feelin' like winnin', I'm feelin' on free like dinner in prison, she feelin' on me, I'm feelin' like sinnin' now
I ain't pop no molly, ain't pop no pills, ain't pop no guns, I'm coolin'
She ain't pop no booty, ain't pop no pussy, she swallowed my dick, she droolin'
Rappers, gangstas, killers, smokers, bunch of niggas with feelings
Models, hoes, and strippers, hookers, bunch of bitches with children
Can't pay my rent, never paid more sense, Imma rob motherfuckers
I catch you chillin' with the wrong motherfuckers
Explode your crib put a bomb in the oven
With a match in the wick in the back of the truck when you catch your shit, I be laughing or something
While I'm walking on trains in the back of the tunnel
On the ground, escape And grab me a gun just blast me a nun
Don't pass me the blunt, just pass me the lunch
I eat that plate and I need that cake
When I see that bank Imma need that safe
Imma need that cave, when I see that Jake, Imma squeeze that thing
When you see that flame, you gon' need that cane, Imma leave that pain
Imma eat that brain, I don't need champagne, I don't eat pancakes
Plus herbal herbs, y'all get on my nerves, don't shit on my words, don't spit on my verse
I spit in your face, I'll piss in your grave, y'all niggas is birds, my shit is absurd

Get you, get you, ya ya
The killers on the corner
That hit you with the chopper
Then make you do the cha cha
Make you do the cha cha
Then make you do the cha cha
The killers on the corner
They make you do the cha cha
Get you, get you, ya ya
The killers on the corner
That hit you with the chopper
Then make you do the cha cha
Make you do the cha cha
Then make you do the cha cha
Then hit you with the chopper
They make you do the cha cha

fuente: musica.com disquito - musica.com

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