(Rock Boy Beats)
(That nigga Ladd got the juice, uh)

Ayy, pull up, I'ma air this bitch out, they call me Big Chant
I been on the run, they tryna catch me, this a Hellcat (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
How you get your pistol in the club? I don't need no wristband (nope)
Your big homie look up to me, you can call me Big Chant
Brand new Patek water, now they call me Big Chant
Pop my shit way harder, so they call me Big Chant (bling, blaow)
Push-button starter, now they call me Big Chant (ooh)
They can't say shit about us, why they call me Big Chant

Pull up, body swervin' (swerve), your BM, man, she lurkin' (hold back)
Step back your hoes on purpose, that lil' ho said she worthless
Big Chant with the big racks (big racks), breakin' niggas, these big facts
If I fuck 'em, you won't get your dick back
You my Lil' Uzi, the choppa got kickback (ah)
Tastes like candy, he wanna lick that, banana clip, hatin' hoes gon' split that
Get no play in the bitch, your shit wack
You know who slid on you, come get your lick back
Runnin', end up like Ricky with a hit-back
Call me Big Chant for a reason, red flag on me, I'm bleedin'
Real rude, cut him off, no reason, when I'm through fuckin' his face
I feel like Call of Duty, only difference, I'm really shootin' (really shootin')
Your bitch, got tooty-booty, only cuff that bitch, can't do it (no)
Better hide your ice 'fore you lose it, nigga move wrong, he stupid (stupid)
Catch a body in a flight, I'm cruisin'
Nigga love this cookie like Lucious (they love this Big Chant)

Pull up, I'ma air this bitch out, they call me Big Chant
I been on the run, they tryna catch me, this a Hellcat (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
How you get your pistol in the club? I don't need no wristband (Nope)
Your big homie look up to me, you can call me Big Chant
Brand new Patek water, now they call me Big Chant
Pop my shit way harder, so they call me Big Chant (bling, blaow)
Push-button starter, now they call me Big Chant (Gucci)
They can't say shit about us, why they call me Big Chant (go)

Your CEO look up to me, they call me Big Wop (Wop)
So icy, bossin', you can tell that by my wristwatch (brr)
I make trap music, it's too hood to be hip-hop (skrrt)
This for the dope boys cookin' dope up in they flip-flops (skrrt, skrrt)
Man, I'm Big Gucci, I wear more Gucci than Harry Styles (it's Gucci)
And it took a while, but real street niggas back in style (Huh?)
Who want some smoke? 'Cause they can get it, this ain't no Black & Mild (ah-ah-ah-ah-ah)
Got eighty rounds and it'll hit you from like half a mile (well, damn)
And I ain't jump up off the porch, I took a leap off (go, go)
He just a sheep, playin' with wolves, that's why that sheet lost (wow)
He tryna keep it undercover, we pulled the sheets off (huh?)
He put his cape on, tried to save her, but she still creeped off (it's Gucci)

Pull up, I'ma air this bitch out, they call me Big Chant
I been on the run, they tryna catch me, this a Hellcat (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
How you get your pistol in the club? I don't need no wristband (Nope)
Your big homie look up to me, you can call me Big Chant
Brand new Patek water, now they call me Big Chant
Pop my shit way harder, so they call me Big Chant (bling, blaow)
Push-button starter, now they call me Big Chant (Gucci)
They can't say shit about us, why they call me Big Chant (go)

Copyright: Royalty Network, TUNECORE INC, TuneCore Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Channing Nicole Larry, Fletcher Redd, Joi Coleman, Mark Hudson, Radric Davis