Everything’s Chrome lyrics

[Intro: King Critical]
Its Critical, n*gga (Cash)
Why everything chrome?
Lean, swag, rock with it
Lean, swag, rock with it
Lean, swag rock with it
It's the remix
Glizzy, what you cooking up?

[Verse 1: King Critical]
I get to the money, I get it and go
I'm f*ckin' your b*tch, got di*k in her throat
n*gga, lean, just poured up a four
Run in your spot, taking your dough
Hit 'em high, hit 'em low, low
Woah, woah, woah
Its Critical, n*gga
Let me quit playin' and get on this beat
I don't wanna hear when you talkin' to me
Freestyle, but the drip ain't free
Bust down and the b*tch ain't cheap
She cuffin' now, I done hit her for weeks
Up now, got a sale on my weed
I got the keys to the streets
I'm sending n*ggas, bring 'em to me
These diamonds dancing, quit lookin' at me
n*ggas be famous when they beefin' with me
You got guns, we got cannons
Hit 'em with drums, call the mechanic
n*ggas be groovin', n*ggas be movin'
Callin' my shooters, they come and do you
Young n*ggas shooting, these young n*ggas shoot
Come to my city, won't see 'em again
[Verse 2: Duke Duece]
What the f*ck
f*ck it, I pop out, I'm bustin'
Sound like a percussion
K from Russia
n*gga better not touch me
If I missed, you lucky
Big old K and it came with a scope
n*gga, I ain't going out, put it on folks
K got a drum, that b*tch done roll
n*ggas still up (Chk-chk) reload (Bow, bow)
Call him 6ix9ine, he a snitch
See it in your eyes, you a b*tch
I got six nine's, them ho's gon' hit
Leave your dirty ass in a ditch
Uhh, yeah, I see that you're scared, you're p*ssing the bed
I don't give a f*ck that they calling the feds
Its f*ck the police, you heard what I said
We keep that sh*t gutter, you know how we play
Hold my wrist up, special ed
f*ckin' that ho for that sh*t that you said
di*k in her kidney, we came in y'all bed
f*ck her for free, but you givin' her bread
Give me a nut and I left her on read
Ho, f*ck you mean? I'm the fat mack
When I say [?] ain't cutting no slack
We stay by pimpin' or get your ass smacked
What? Get your ass smacked
Stuck with the strap, 'cause I came through the back
Get down with the mob, might come with a pack
Bought me these shoes, I feel like Shaq
[?] boy, killer get hats
Get you outside, you'll get whacked
My guys don't zook, but they slide, thats facts
What the f*ck
[Chorus: King Critical & Key Glock]
Glock to your top
Make them lean, where they rock
Got a Glock to your top (Woah)
Make them lean, where they rock
With a Glock to your top (Woah)
Make them lean, where they rock (Woah)
With a Glock to your top (Woah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Make them lean, where they rock
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)

[Verse 3: Key Glock]
I got a .40 its filled with criticals
I got them sticks, I got plenty of 'em
I'm balling so hard this sh*t pitiful
I took his b*tch then I biffed her up
She like Glizzy, you're so unforgetable
Shut up, b*tch turn, around and gitty up
Yeah, ride this di*k, b*tch gitty up
Lil whore, this b*tch thick as a horse
c*mmin' got my voice hoarse
But f*ck it, I'm posting more
But f*ck it, I'll post some more
b*tch, I get high like its a chore
Hoppin' out the Lamborghini, liftin' my door
Yeah, I'm hoppin' out the Lamborghini, liftin' my door
This a Lamborghini Urus, not Aventador
Told gang, lets go up the score
Ballin' so hard, n*ggas can't ignore it
And I keep a stick, I'll burn you like a s'more (Bop, bop, bop)
Ten toes down, hard body to the core
Got racks on racks, my legs get sore
So many dead men, this sh*t like a morgue