Текст песни The Chill$

Imma pay check checka, homewrecka
Somethin' like an open panel leather in cold weather with no sweater
No cheddar is no pleasure
He won't even get to eat the box if it gets wetter
See an opportunity to hop if the chips better
But I ain't a fat bitch, I'mma go getta
Let a chick come to war, I'mma go get her
And feed her ass to my bitches like old dinner
Right off the bat I got ya nigga pullin' shit outta hat
Cuz I can look em in the face while I'm arching my back
Check his microphone
Suck the gristle off his bone
Like tryna quence a thirst to get your hands on his phone
That I don't condone
He's fucked up he ain't right
And a bitch is prone to to lay back and take pipe
Fuck the drama I'm too pretty for a fist fight
Keep my money comin' and I keep all of my lips tight

Chorus
Peter Bjorn and John:
Your tonque is sharp
But I miss the taste of it
(They be puttin' up the digits
If he if he wanna hit it
If he if he wanna hit it
If he if he wanna hit it)

You say time heals
There's not enough of it
(be puttin' up the digits
If he if he wanna hit it
If he if he wanna hit it
If he if he wanna hit it)

I be takin' brothes cousins uncles like the war in Iraq
I eat his cabbage like a savage then I'm sending it back
To his wife you ain't a lot of oxygen in his wallet
If you tryna fuck with Banks you better make a depositAzealia Banks - The Chill$ - http://ru.motolyrics.com/azealia-banks/the-chills-lyrics.html
I be herpin' niggas early like they tryna cop Supreme hats
But I do switch up for the buck like homie let me see that
Always strap up for the fuck he could be where disease at
And a dude like us he can touch but I ain't tryna conceive that
You got them demons in you semen Nigga keep that
One drop of that white stuff can severly fuck my life up
And you know I keep my site up
And all I see is fetty
No I don't need no babies and no wabbies in my belly
Adoption ain't an option; strap up or pack up
Try somethin' slick and get your dick hacked up
So you can either hit the door in peace
Or watchin' me hit the floor in pieces, believe this

Chorus
Peter Bjorn and John:
Your tonque is sharp
But I miss the taste of it
(They be puttin' up the digits
If he if he wanna hit it
If he if he wanna hit it
If he if he wanna hit it)

You say time heals
There's not enough of it
(They be puttin' up the digits
If he if he wanna hit it
If he if he wanna hit it
If he if he wanna hit it)

Pussy be the x, but I don't pop pills
I put it on his top lip like "Got milk?"
Wetter than the sea a nigga need gills
The type of shit that make a nigga wanna pay bills
Next thing you know he got me written in his will
And I'm wating on the day that I can come off with the mill
Niggas offer my shit like they all a bunch of Buddhists
But I ain't a golddigger
I'm a fuckin' opportunist