Testo Chain Smoker

Still a chain smoking
Name dropping
Good looking
Muh' fucking
Motha, shut your mouth

(Hook)
Still a chain smoking Name dropping
Good looking
Muh' fucking
Motha, shut your mouth
Brain broken
Frank Ocean listening
Stain hitting, satin woodgrain gripping
Paint dripping
Motha, shut your mouth

(Verse 1)
somebody pray for the guy
oh lord
I wonder what might goes on
somethin' jammin' know we share a rappin' trappin' trippin' sinnin' slipping fluent chewing vicodin
Shoulda died- yelling YOLO was a lie
And you a liar wonder why you wanna die so young
You and I look just alike
And I'm afraid that this one right here
Might be the last time that I write a song
A lot of niggas wanna go out with a bang
But I ain't tryin' to go out at all
So I ain't tryna go out the door
Got a lot of ideas coulda throw out the door
Last chance joint gotta be a dance joint
From an introspective drugged out standpoint
Throw vans joint, wanna hold hands joint
Old school for my old lone man joint

(Hook)
Still a chain smoking
Name dropping
Good looking
Muh' fucking
Motha, shut your mouth
Brain broken
Frank Ocean listening
Stain hitting, satin woodgrain gripping
Paint dripping
Motha, shut your mouth

(Brigde)
This part right here, right now
Right here, this part my shit
I play this so loud in the Corrad
Forget to park my whip
I lean back, then spark my shit
I turn up, I talk my shit
Hope you love all of my shit
I hope you love all of my shit (IGH)

(Verse 2)
Why toss my filter when she saved my life?
The same shit that kills us, always feels so right
That's why I pray to the dear lord
God know who he be
Truth be told he juiced me
Introduced me to the lucy leaf
Oh oh oh, I seen the light, I lost my lighter
Big flip, kick to heaven and the bucket, fuck your supplier
Lies, Levis on fire
Flyer on the wall I'm brighter
In the darkness of the night
In the sky I get higher, higher

(Hook)
Still a chain smoking
Name dropping
Good looking
Muh' fucking
Motha, shut your mouth
Brain broken
Frank Ocean listening
Stain hitting, satin woodgrain gripping
Paint dripping
Motha, shut your mouth

(Brigde)
This part right here, right now
Right here, this part my shit
I play this so loud in the Corrad
Forget to park my whip
I lean back, then spark my shit
I turn up, I talk my shit
Hope you love all of my shit
I hope you love all of my shit (IGH)

(Hook)
Still a chain smoking
Name dropping
Good looking
Muh' fucking
Motha, shut your mouth
Brain broken
Frank Ocean listening
Stain hitting, satin woodgrain gripping
Paint dripping
Motha, shut your mouth