No Grease lyrics
by Chicken P
[Intro]
(This is a MeloDroppin30)
[Verse 1]
See this pain in my eyes, this sh*t gettin' tirin'
Eyes get buck as hell when I hear them sirens
Money, gold, and diamonds, we a bunch of pirates
Watchin' out for the narcs, trappin' out a hybrid
Fiend keep noddin' off, man, he can't fight it
This dog bitin' n*ggas' ears, punchin' like Tyson
Phones fightin' like Ali versus Mike Tyson
Some sh*t you n*ggas never seen, dog, I'm nothin' like 'em
Main n*ggas talkin' down can't do sh*t for you
All these motherf*ckin' grits, I feel like Rich Porter
b*tch, we ain't no small fries, we takin' big orders
n*ggas b*tches, finna change my hustle to extortion
Phones slappin' back to back they sound like walkie-talkies
Said a prayer, left the house with five bands in my joggy
Yeah, b*tch, I got it on me, f*ck bein' flossy
We the ones got 'em sayin' dump around Milwaukee (Dumper)
[Chorus]
I'm that n*gga talkin' 'bout chicken with no grease on it
(Young n*gga tyin' G's up, makin' bad hoes freeze up)
I'm that n*gga talkin' 'bout chicken with no grease on it
(Crispy-ass blues on me, n*gga, ain't a crease on 'em)
I'm that n*gga talkin' 'bout chicken with no grease on it
(All these motherf*ckin' grits, I feel like Rich Porter)
I'm that n*gga talkin' 'bout chicken with no grease on it
(b*tch, we ain't no small fries, we takin' big orders)
[Verse 2]
Don't eat no food on that plate, put some bleach on it
I was bussin' down piece after piece on it
Rubber bands on that chicken, ain't no grease on it
Bed in the basement, from time to time, my pop sleep on it
Gotta keep that money with me everywhere I go
Y'all gettin' taxed, me and Max got it for the low
Bands in the cup holder next to Scat, strap in the door
I get it, step on it like doormat on the floor
Money, power, and respect, don't care about no hoes
Ashtray full of grits, I'm tryna get it rolled
Pradas full of scuff marks, pocket full of pros
I remember grindin' in the cold with a snotty nose
They said, "You might be gettin' watched," I said, "Oh, well"
12 ain't stoppin' none of these dope sales
I'm goin' crazy on these n*ggas, get a whole bail
On Port Washington, dumpin' out the motel
Ayy, fool, get the leash, it's time to walk the dog
He on his way from Brookfield, meet me by the mall
You want three grits? Cool, I got it in my joggy
I'm in this motherf*cker shoppin', when you get here, call me
[Chorus]
I'm that n*gga talkin' 'bout chicken with no grease on it
(Young n*gga tyin' G's up, makin' bad hoes freeze up)
I'm that n*gga talkin' 'bout chicken with no grease on it
(Crispy-ass blues on me, n*gga, ain't a crease on 'em)
I'm that n*gga talkin' 'bout chicken with no grease on it
(All these motherf*ckin' grits, I feel like Rich Porter)
I'm that n*gga talkin' 'bout chicken with no grease on it
(b*tch, we ain't no small fries, we takin' big orders)