Wiz Khalifa
Chit Chat
[Intro: Pi'erre Bourne]
Pi'erre Balmain (Balmain)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh
Yeah
Say it with your chest n***a

[Chorus: Pi'erre Bourne & Wiz Khalifa]
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Okay) (Ay)

[Verse 1: Wiz Khalifa]
I might fuck once, I don't wanna call the bitch back
This ain't regular all this KK in a big bag
See my dawgs and all you see is fools with big racks
He at home, he tryna find out where his bitch at
All these n***as, you ain't practice you ain't ballin' with us
Put my all in, you be conscious with it
Make em' sick, I got em' nauseous
Cullinan wonder what it-what it cost
I ain't just come up, I been putting work in, lil' n***a
Grindin' for mine that's for certain
Now I get a hundred for verses, and fuck it, my record is perfect
Don't listen to—
[Chorus: Pi'erre Bourne & Wiz Khalifa]
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Hahaha) (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Uh) (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (It's gang-gang over everything, so) (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Fuck is you talkin' 'bout, bitch?) (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)

[Verse 2: Pi'erre Bourne]
Whole clique fresh, look like Easter
I get cheese like its pizza
I'm getting bread look like pita
I'm with Yeezy, no Adidas
You rock Yeezy, I just seen him
I get richer with my Visa
Murakami stack three meters, n***as bitches, n***as divas
Beat the pussy up like Tina
I'll be Martin, you'll be Gina
We gon' kick it like it's FIFA
I like liquor, I like reefer
Let's get baked, like Anita
Smokin' paper, Wiz Khalifa
Stackin' paper, I'm a reader
Sick of these n***as, I got a fever
[Chorus: Pi'erre Bourne]
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)
All this chit chat, all this chit chat, all this chit chat, huh (Ay)