[Hook:]
I tried to tell a n***a chill
Call him David, put the mess in the mada Copperfield
For real, n****s know the drill
Mommy on that molly while she poppin up a pill
For real, tell that b***h to chill
For real, tell that b***h to chill
For real, n***a better chill
And if they don’t, just line em up
It’s perfect timin for the kill

[Verse:]
I don’t care about the money that your man make
I hit a homerun, now I’m runnin through my fan base
Up the green from a garden to a landscape
Sounds be the only lingo cops will never translate
They pull up, I pull out that thing and pop it
I ain’t fuckin with no dicks, I’m on hella ring bob it
I’m no Davie but them ladies say the boys way be Crockett
I’m the plug in the street and you a motherfuckin socket
Had to chill for a while but I’m welcomed back
Was low key, how I’m underneath the welcome mat
Now the b*****s see me in the Forbes
So if I give you my number, like a finny you should call
You should tell your man to chill cause you’re fuckin with a dog
And he be firecracker flaming and you fuckin with a ball
I got them crills on the street, got Jahlil on the beat
Only Phantoms, ain’t no Caddys when we roll out in them fleets

[Hook:]

[Verse 2:]
Wrist on chill
Neck on chill
Hoes all up in my grill
I cop a feel then I tell that b***h to chill
Hop behind the wheel and get back to chasin that mill
Ok, big black zonin, on s**t pumpin
Beef is like a car, to start it I push a button
And it’s over when it’s over with
I don’t know if you noticed it
But I just got my weight up b***h, I’m getting checks and bonuses
Pull up in the covers with, yea I see you lookin
As you should, come and get this wood, yea that getting dough
G shot wrist, Reebok kicks
My n****s f**k the place you, King Kong s**t
She back and forth on my balls, ping-pong b***h
She playin house with my ding dong, I’m playin ding dong ditch
Her bar is too ill, way too trill
If that’s yo girl actin up, tell that b***h to chill
For real

[Hook:]
I tried to tell a n***a chill
Call him David, put the mess in the mada Copperfield
For real, n****s know the drill
Mommy on that molly while she poppin up a pill
For real, tell that b***h to chill
For real, tell that b***h to chill
For real, n***a better chill
And if they don’t, just line em up
It’s perfect timin for the kill

[Verse 3:]
Yea, ya’ll know
When I come through and I lock it
So much bread I should attach a laundry basket to my pocket
You ain’t really knowin, ready for the lesson?
See me whippin a Boeing, 7-47
See the wrist be glowin til I’m shinin like a misfit
Spark with n***a cascade, dish washing liquid
Bread up in the palasades, mansion into stash house
Wilin in the club while b*****s dancing with they a** out
Mossberg military in case n****s act out
On em like a click over traded n****s blacked out
Why oh why oh why n***a?
You don’t wanna try it
See my n****s squeezing til they finger muzzle getting tired n***a
Finish with the coke I watch it rattle through the waffa
Like a kid cooked the coke up in a fuckin pressure cooker
The I quickly count the profit, cop another castle key
Cook until they want a n***a on their cooking channel
You know my style, you see the way I sip up
At 10 thousand a bottle, s**t you know my n****s grip up
I’m on that raise the throttle s**t, you know I got the hulk
Go ahead and fuckin gobble b***h, it’s simple like the pushup
Rocket launcher swag b***h, see how I’m propelling ya’ll
Taking over everything, I’m tired of telling ya’ll
Why you always talk, could give a f**k what n****s chat bout
Keep applying the pressure until you n****s tap out
Now pass out

[Hook:]
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Chill Lyrics

Busta Rhymes – Chill Lyrics