Текст песни Knock It Off - Chief Keef

Knock It Off

I had a .30 in my Hollister
Now I go in Gucci and I cop it all
Get out the way if you’re not involved
Do me a favor, knock it off
Bang, bang, bang
Don’t approch me if it ain’t 'bout money
Boy you know how I’m comin'
No, I cannot pull up
She say I’m actin' funny
I hop out, get bags of money
Rock out like Led Zep-pelin
Thot like, «What you up to?» Nothin'
She let me fuck this mornin'
Went and picked up a bag
These niggas is stealin' swag
I cannot fuck with you
If you don’t fuck with gang
Roll up and blow your brain
Roll up, it’s to the brain
Your life spent on my chain
She unbutton these Balmains
It’s 300, them guys with me
We 'bout it, no Master P
Smokin' this celery
Countin' a salary
You did not ride with me
'Cause you were doubtin' me
You could’ve had your name on a Big Falcon tee
I’m swervin', I’m not suburban
We ain’t worried, yeah, we searchin'
Don’t get nervous, eat this bird shit
We at it early, mac burnin'
I had a .30 in my Hollister
Now I go in Gucci and I cop it all
Get out the way if you’re not involved
Do me a favor, knock it off
Bang, bang, bang
You know I got them thousands
And they in my trousers
I’ll buy a bag of weed
With your allowance
Buy some kicks, it’s gon' round me
To the nearest thousands
Too much damn dino juice
I’m feelin' lousy
You like to copy
I have the hobbies
Don’t make me sign Turbo
On your autopsy
You’re with your possé
We got a shotty
I am with ISIS
You cannot stop me
With gang, I blow dope with them
We be like on folks and them
Sippin' all this lean, baby
Can you tell me somethin'
Am I slurrin'?
Am I slurrin'?
Bitches say I look better in person
I’m swervin', I’m not suburban
We ain’t worried, yeah, we searchin'
Don’t get nervous, eat this bird shit
We at it early, mac burnin'
I had a .30 in my Hollister
Now I go in Gucci and I cop it all
Get out the way if you’re not involved
Do me a favor, knock it off
Bang, bang, bang
I’m ridin' with my soldiers
Fast roller coaster
If you don’t understand me
Blah, go the toaster
I’m hard on my motor
I am not a loafer
You don’t want no cancer
I keep the toaster
You know I got the piece
And a pound of weed
This weed ain’t got no seeds
Your bed ain’t got no freak
I just po’d up four threes
You’re runnin' out of lean
I just wanna be on Forbes
I’m runnin' out of dreams
I’m swervin', I’m not suburban
We ain’t worried, yeah, we searchin'
Don’t get nervous, eat this bird shit
We at it early, mac burnin'
I had a .30 in my Hollister
Now I go in Gucci and I cop it all
Get out the way if you’re not involved
Do me a favor, knock it off
Bang, bang, bang