Harold’s - Alex Goose Remix lyrics

[Verse 1]
I keep the chip off in my cell phone, pocket full of stones
Smoking on the strong, Freddie Kane, Freddie Corleone
Marshalltown n*ggas, had a n*gga running home (b*tch)
I call Kinnell, get me a .38, now b*tch is on (b*tch)
9 millimeter Baretta to 40 cal (yuh)
Glock 23 fresh up out the box, b*tch I hold it down (uh)
I hit the stroll with a chili bowl and a crooked smile (yeah)
Fast forward ten years, came back with Roley's with golden crowns (b*tch)
Skinny n*gga, six-wing mild sauce (yeah)
With all the fries you can give me, I tear them b*tches off
Ski mask on yo baby daddy? Well, that's that n*gga loss (b*tch)
Pointin' my trey five seven, I got my point across (yeah yeah)
A skinny n*gga, six-wing, mild sauce (yeah yeah)
With all the fries you can give me, I tear them b*tches off (fries, n*gga)
This burning hole in my pocket got me out here flippin' soft (uh)
.223 on my enemy, I tear them b*tches off (uh, yeah)

[Chorus]
A skinny n*gga, six-wing, mild sauce
With all the fries you can give me, I tear them b*tches off
A plate of chicken with the bread stuck to the bottom
But f*ck my enemies, what you looking for? b*tch I got 'em
Say b*tch I got 'em , say b*tch I got 'em
f*ck my enemies, what you looking for? b*tch I got 'em
Say b*tch I got 'em, say b*tch I got 'em
f*ck my enemies, what you looking for? b*tch I got 'em
[Verse 2]
KFC, Harold's, Sharks or Popeyes
Adidas suit with a plate of chicken, got mob ties
A fresh Delt', weed crumbs on my plush seats
I got my license now, I'm backseat f*cking every week (yuh)
A thick b*tch live in Miller, go to work (fo'sho)
3:30, school was out then I was fresh under her skirt
Them project n*ggas hit that b*tch, that pus*y went berserk (fo'sho)
Don't hit without that Trojan, f*ck around, you might get burnt (ugh)
She was raised in the church, turnt out in the ghetto (uh)
Lock it, pus*y pop it, I swear this b*tch deserve a medal
Seen school girls turn into strippers in stilettos (yeah)
Pimpin' 'til I die, if you wanna stop then get ya shovel b*tch
Extra sauce with the bread stuck to the bottom
Freddie Forgiato, all my b*tches spoiled rotten (yeah)
Cop that llama, got the hollows poppin' out the barrel
Got a stain for them hubbas, meet me at the Harold's, b*tch

[Interlude]
And I remember when the Harold's was on 15th, n*gga
(Right on 15th, n*gga)
You know what I'm saying? (For real though, fo'sho)
I used to hit the muh'f*cka all the time, n*gga
Straight dope stains and chicken wings, you know what I'm saying?

[Chorus]
A skinny n*gga, six-wing, mild sauce
With all the fries you can give me, I tear them b*tches off
A plate of chicken with the bread stuck to the bottom
But f*ck my enemies, what you looking for? b*tch I got 'em
Say b*tch I got 'em , say b*tch I got 'em
f*ck my enemies, what you looking for? b*tch I got 'em
Say b*tch I got 'em, say b*tch I got 'em
f*ck my enemies, what you looking for? b*tch I got 'em