R3 Da Chilliman
Like it’s His
[Intro]
(Reconboy)
(Run that back, West)

[Chorus: R3 Da Chilliman]
Bitch, I'm bustin', I'm in here sweatin' off a Perc'
Don't trust me, if he cross me, he get murked
Bitch, don't ask me, I got it tatted 'cause that's the turf
You livin' wrong, forgot to put your money first
He a trophy, he mean business when he lurk
Opp splash, let him have it like it's his
I need it all in a safe 'fore it get worse
Backyard bandits, go in homes like your crib

[Verse 1: R3 Da Chilliman]
I'm up workin', gettin' money, ain't no sleep
This four-five louder than an AMG
Glock on my hip like Rambo
Bounce out, drop shit, then we outro
N***a, how the fuck you a trophy?
You nevеr had a high-speed with the police
He don't know thе juice, that shit water-whipped
I been blampin' coupes, I was a problem kid
I'm in here clutchin' on the stick, he better not play with me
Brazilian butt lift if she came with me
He better tuck his shit 'fore we yank his piece
He belong with the busters, can't hang with me
Just met a stuffer, she ain't rich, but she finna be
You dropped some pape', n***as still tryna kill for free
'Bows gone, we them n***as with them P's
Your pockets empty, so she way out of your league
[Chorus: R3 Da Chilliman]
Bitch, I'm bustin', I'm in here sweatin' off a Perc'
Don't trust me, if he cross me, he get murked
Bitch, don't ask me, I got it tatted 'cause that's the turf
You livin' wrong, forgot to put your money first
He a trophy, he mean business when he lurk
Opp splash, let him have it like it's his
I need it all in a safe 'fore it get worse
Backyard bandits, go in homes like your crib

[Verse 2: 03 Greedo]
Bitch, I'm on parole, but I still tote a pole
Methamphetamine in my VVs'll make you overdose
Following the code, you already know
Just to get inside a n***a gates, you gotta know the fours
Fuck the enemies, we havin' M's, doin' numbers
Giddy been shootin' like the white boy on the Thunder
'Cause Lil Pope'll wet you up over the 'bows like a plunger
Bitch, they call me Greedy, since a seed, I had the hunger
How many n***as in this bitch totin' sticks?
Yeah, my bodyguard a blower, gotta get a n***a frisked
Pat down, pat down, check a sucker n***a pockets
Noodle me a n***a soups, got a n***a Stockton
Jalen Green inside the jeans, not the money, but the rockets
I don't fuck with bitches who be listening to opp shit
Push your baby mama buttons 'cause I got a lot of options
Like the top on all my foreigns, every day, I gotta drop shit
[Chorus: R3 Da Chilliman]
Bitch, I'm bustin', I'm in here sweatin' off a Perc'
Don't trust me, if he cross me, he get murked
Bitch, don't ask me, I got it tatted 'cause that's the turf
You livin' wrong, forgot to put your money first
He a trophy, he mean business when he lurk
Opp splash, let him have it like it's his
I need it all in a safe 'fore it get worse
Backyard bandits, go in homes like your cribs