The Chill Mistah F.A.B. (Ft. Curren$y & ScHoolboy Q)

[Intro: Mistah F.A.B.]
My life’s a movie baby
So groovy baby

[Verse 1: Mistah F.A.B]
Fly mackin’, try stackin’ if your paper’s short
Heard I got his bitch, damn, that’s what he hatin’ for?
Tell it to the judge cuz, ‘cause I ain’t the one to take to court
Feeling like I’m Luke Skywalker, can you feel the force?
Chill, with the guys
She ain’t feeling your style, when she lovin’ my vibe
So please don’t kill my vibe
Hat down low, can’t see my eyes
All black tint on that Maserati, can’t see through my ride
I advise, stay under, ‘cause when you over it’ll be over
Cut your grass when you deal with snakes or walk with the cobras
Watch your glass when you drink with fakes or like me just be sober
Ain’t no luck from no clover, ain’t no heaven for no soldier
Boy I told you I was raised by the tricks and jawns, pimps and cons
Born and raised in Oakland, several miles man from [?]
Ooh, man this shit we on, get blown to oblivion
Marvin Gaye with your bae, let’s chill and get it on

[Chorus]
What you doin’?
Ah man, I’m just chillin’
Lounging in the ghetto and in project buildings
Happy with a 100 thousand if I never make a million
Ask me what I’m doing and I tell you
Man, I’m just chillin’
The chill, the the, the chill
Pay attention, learn the secrets of the chill
The chill, the chill, the the, the chill
Live life, be happy, be honest, keep it real
The chill