I got the drip drop icy hot wrist that's a ice pack (uh)
Think I'm Tim Horton with the iced cap

I used to get caught up with all these thots (forgot 'em)
I never second guess I shoot my shot (I got 'em)
It's funny how I never check my watch (still got 'em)
Problems without baby gravy we just (solve 'em)

He ain't got the loud pack tell that boy speak up (speak up)
New side bitch short 'n' stout like a tea cup (tea cup)
I might get myself some fake tits get some D-cups (aye)
Just so I can flex on my ex she got C-cups

Check the patterns
We keep goin' bananas
I see you nanners slippin'
Watch the blue shell do some damage
We in the back (bitch)
We passin' 6, 5, 4
3, 2, 1 yeah now we in the front (so I)
Spent a big check on a car
Yeah I would if I could (yeah)
Everything I make is hard
You will like it 'cause it's good (yeah)
Shawty you better be playin'
Sorry you misunderstood (yeah)
Baby what the fuck you sayin'
Nothing good rhymes with good

I could take a piss on a drum and the song would go dumb
Anesthesiolo-wrist make ya shit go numb
Get a freezie with ya bitch, buddy you could be my son
Yo momma lookin' like a fee-fi-fo-fum
Headass-motherfucker
What's for supper
She must think that I'm a sucker

Ugh
I stumble when I mumble, I look lazy, yeah
I'm in the Bay with Baby Gravy, feelin' hazy, yeah
I'm finna get paid with the Paper Gang we goin' crazy, yeah
I'm bout to get laid with a bitch that cook that soup up daily, yeah
I'm in the Cadillac, bitches on
Chicken soup the dinner song
Thick as fuck, bitch's leg
Lookin' like a dip 'n' dunk
Kill 'em off, whip it off
Chillin' like a villain God
Built a bong out of aluminum and a Cinnabon
And y'all ain't want no smoke with the clique
Nah
Lose your gold rope to my bitch, yeah
Tape been the name, been the same
Never fell off, on the way to a boat with them fellas
It's on the gang
Soup

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): Alexander Gumuchian, Garrett Hartnell, Malloy Kingsley, Matthew Hauri