Chrisean Rock

[Verse]
G9 playing music, but this not a boombox
I-I'ma scam the Jamaican plug for the jerk chicken
And that baby not mine, bitch, I feel like Drew Wiggins
G9 turn that boy to a acrobat, I leave him flippin’
I'm not Silento, but in the kitchen, I whip it
Break her heart, then come back, I call that double dipping
Pockets full of the blue, bitch, I feel like I'm crippin’
Nah, this not no Chrisean on the beat, but I Rock
Playin' peekaboo with the Glock, that nigga shocked
They say time is money, so I need it, tick-tock
Keep a switch in my pocket 'case my Glocky jam
No, this not thanksgiving, but I'm going ham
Rob the plug for his own merchandise, Uncle Sam
I remember I was down on my dick eating noodles
No, this don't be a G19, this bе a Ruger
And the Glocky an owl, I'ma turn him a hooter
G9 likе a life sentence, make that boy poop
That bitch know I'm not them, I don't [?] the boot
I’ma turn that boy chicken, he fleein’ the coop
Nigga racing the hollow tip, won't make it far
Got a special-ed shooter, I name him Omar
No, this not a game, kick yo door like Black Ops
Bitch, I’m seein' the numbers, I feel like I'm Mason
[?] the clip on yo brudda, but you cannot trace it
Put yo potna in the blunt, and I'm finna face it
But these niggas not straight, so them niggas adjacent

[Outro]
What the fuck?
Aha