La La La Chip

Last year, I was in ATL, tryin'a put the UK on (London boy)
I'm always covering American beats, so let me do a UK one (Naughty Boy)
White girls wanna see me in the charts, black girls say my mixtape's hard
I went left for a minute, went right for a minute, now I've got the balance, I be going hard
So somebody better cut me a cheque, name a top rapper, I'll be after his neck
I just want the money nigga, and the respect
Niggas sayin' they're killing them but nobody's dead
What do I bring? Originality, yes, but they're biting my style 'til there's none of me left
Come on, you heard my tape, then you made your tape, so tell me why your CD's dead
I'll be covering my ears like la la la
Your words mean nothing like blah blah blah
I want baby money, no ga ga ga
These rappers are my sons, call me da da da
Better yet, they ain't my sons, they're my foster kids
I ain't Madeline, nah, they ain't lost the kid
See my Muslim nigga did his whole bird, he said inshallah we don't fuck with pigs
No snitching, no snitching, one more time, no snitching
Hating ass nigga wanna murder me?
Suit yourself, but you better shoot the witness
Don't know if you clocked, but times have changed
I've been killing spitters since my grimy days
The rappers taking notes on my shit and every penny counts, you can't keep the change
What goes around, comes around, that's true
So she can fuck the whole crew, before she fucks you
Girls on the jam with some young fly niggas
Star Jazz Sean got [?] smiling
My white man Chris, he my real nigga too
And Jerimiah made the real nigga [?]
Still getting cake, call it belated plus I got shit to celebrate too
"Reload" hit the chart bup bup bu
London Boy getting around wanted bup bup bu
I don't want no trouble trust me if you wanna trouble me trust me you can get it how you want it bup bu
A.R. be the crew bup bup
30g watch to 22 bup bu
To anyone sleeping on me I'll catch you in your dreams
Hey this is for you bup bu