Video Call Me » Chief Keef Lyrics | Musica Hip Hop

Chief Keef - Call Me Lyrics

I got racks up in my pocket, racks up in my pocket
I got thots all in my phone calling me, bitch, stop it
Fourteen hundred for this belt, this ain’t no damn versace
And I’m smoking all this dope, my hobby’s getting money
I count money like I’m poor, you know I already done it
Twenties, fifties, hundreds, bitch I’m stunting
Fifties, hundreds, twenties, oh my goodness
I need my money machine to count this shit for me
I'll be flexin' on niggas, just coolin', flexin’
I got my niggas, my money, my toolie
I got my car, and my house and my jewelry
Yes, flexin' on niggas, I ain't worried
Smoking tooka to the head
Come through shoot ya then you’re dead
I’m getting money fuck the feds
I'm glo gang, what is that?
That’s my shit, you little bitch
Let’s get rich you little bitch
Get off my dick you little bitch
And go get you a brick
Smoking tutu that’s my opps
So much damn tutu on my car
Counting rolls like a boss then
You know that I know
I got racks up in my pocket, racks up in my pocket
I got thots all in my phone calling me, bitch, stop it
Fourteen hundred for this belt, this ain’t no damn versace
And I’m smoking all this dope, my hobby’s getting money
I count money like I’m poor, you know I already done it
Twenties, fifties, hundreds, bitch I’m stunting
Fifties, hundreds, twenties, oh my goodness
I need my money machine to count this shit for me
Money machine go beep beep
Hop in my car shooting shit du-du du-du du-du beep beep
All these fuck boys wanna be me
His bitch let me fuck her cause I got racks so I hit it like bang bang, skeet, skeet
Tell that on my phone yeah
Money tatted on my mind yeah
Thirty tatted on my gun yeah
It’s time to have fun yeah
His bitch say she wanna fuck me
She really wanna fuck my money
Thought that I ain’t know
She thought that I was a dummy
Told her save that shit, baby you on that lame ass shit
I don’t play that shit
I got racks up in my pocket, racks up in my pocket
I got thots all in my phone calling me, bitch, stop it
Fourteen hundred for this belt, this ain’t no damn versace
And I’m smoking all this dope, my hobby’s getting money
I count money like I’m poor, you know I already done it
Twenties, fifties, hundreds, bitch I’m stunting
Fifties, hundreds, twenties, oh my goodness
I need my money machine to count this shit for me