Welcome To Chili’s – 99 Neighbors

[Swank:]
(Ayy, ayy)
Back against the wall, now I’unno where to go
Pick it up, I’ve been livin’ slow
Felt like different individuals
In my mind they gone (Ayy, ayy)
I been prayin’ on my kneecaps got no feedback (Damn)
Where my motherfucking weed at?
I gotta go, where
I been feeling like I’m good, psych
I could use another wood, I
Feel so misunderstood (Damn)
Tryna read me like a map
Riddle me that
Gimme some Ritalin sleep for the wack
Work in the night I write better in black
I’m quick to react (Fuck, damn)
Stuck in the dark with my demons (Ayy)
Can’t look at mirrors for reasons I couldn’t explain ’cause you wouldn’t believe it (Ayy)
Wish I could go back and delete it
I can’t, I know
I ran, from home
Flick on the switch and I light some smoke
Think about life in a lesson I wish I knew more so I wouldn’t be left all alone
I wish I could pause, want it to stop
Workin’ on music to help me not drop
Paintin’ a picture of brand new intentions
I came out the gutter got time on the clock
And I gotta escape, back on my toes
Dripping in sauce, you can see on my clothes
If I R.I.P. now, I be fresher then most
Sorry to God, I ain’t really want smoke

[Sam Paulino:]
Bust down Thotiana
She gon’ get it if she want it
Roll it, flip it, back it up (Yeah)
Let’s fuck around in the Acura
I’ma get right to the business
‘Cause I’m only here for the nighttime
Eat the pussy like it’s ice cream
I’ma hit it at the right time
I’ma throw it all away
Runnin’ it down, down, down (Yeah)
I’ma cut straight to the chase
Quit fuckin’ around, round, round (Uh)
I’ma pray for my enemies
I am exactly what they all pretend to be
You niggas tired like Michelin and you from Michigan
Typin’ away to get all of your disses in (Whoa)
Straight from the gutter, I’m killin’ it (Whoa)
Promised my mama I’d get her a Cadillac
When we backpackin’ all over the globe, I don’t need more
I got the Arthur fist for niggas who gon’ bring the problems
If you want it come and get it ’cause I’m off the vodka
And my shorty stupid thick, spicy like Sriracha
And she ’bout commas, commas, commas, anything but drama

[HANKNATIVE:]
They gave me chains and I showed them how to break those
Cold heart with the love, can’t fake hoe
Never overestimate your self-worth, get tossed to the curb for a mothafuckin’ bank load
They ain’t like me
Oh bitch I noticed and I’ve been so low with it
Honestly I thought I mastered the cloaking device and the Rover is custom, so you should come over tonight and bend over
I’m faded, bitch I feel amazing
I might be in L.A. by the next month, I can’t say shit
Tell ’em that we
Play hella cool but it’s serious
Honestly probably ’bout to become an anomaly
I can see all of this shit from too far, it’s binoculars
I wish that everything else was this
Obvious
But it ain’t, dawg run quick, fuck Trump, true shit
When they ask who’s this, pull the motherfuckin’ YouTube for the who’s who
Crowd bitch get hip