Intro:
Chops on the track!
Verse 1 (Bambu):
I could fight like Cung Lee with my old ass
Putting bullets in my own ain’t why I tote klacks
That’s for infiltrators tryna see me put down
Mad cuz they can’t get in the club, look at me now
Out in Daygo in the southeast lamping out
Dark skinned southeast Asian girls with their hair down
Holding back their big brothers in the lot, scrappin'
We from war torn third-world countries, what’s happenin?
I could show you what it means to be in poverty
Where half a slice of bread is worth a strong arm robbery
Rubber slippers fuck the Jordans on your feet
Smack a politician sample the slap into a beat
If it ain’t ;bout us tryna eat, might as well not even speak
Lotta shit I don’t like, so I Chief Keef
Fuck the chief of police, insert whatever city
Mountain Brother with a platoon of guerillas ridin with me
Hook (2x):
My comrades don’t fold, pop shit, get throwed
When it come to politicking all the homies need to know is
Get money, rent money
Get money, food money
Get money, school money
Stop taking shit from me
Verse 2 (Rocky Rivera):
I can scrap like Rhonda Rousey with my short ass
Armbar in the first round, know that
These little birds wanna chirp non-stop
But when I come around you could hear a pin drop
Self-made prodigy, underground armories
One woman army, ain’t no politician stopping me
Mad stripes like I’m Blues Clues
And all my bad girls, hit em with that voodoo
Want your country back? It don’t belong to you
And tell your god to go fuck himself cause I’m on to you
I’m a heathen who’s lucky I’m even breathing
Believe in what you believe in but money's never the reason
But if the money comes who am I to say, "No"?
I been struggling for years on that pay roll
So all my soldiers get bucked when I say so
Stick em for the yen, roopies, and they pesos
Repeat chorus
Verse 3 (Bambu):
Chops
Progressive with the flow and I ensure that
Never a Trotskyite, Sondolomite or confused cat
Always working class in all my doings
And I'm doing music trying to stay attached through my students
Cee and Lauren getting older
Little Micah birthed a soldier
Aldo, Rem G, X The UV getting colder
With every word that they pen
As long as truth for it stems
Progress, forward motion, minor scrimmage, never bend
Pescatarian and my diet's seafood when I'm grubbing brah
Soon though I'ma have to cut the fish, like Jerry
Bust a terrorist, and I ain't found a god that I believe in
And every man they tell me is holy as a human being
Bambu, yeah I be him
One rifle a minimum
Sacrificing morals, trying to keep somebody feeding him
Never been my M.O.
Now Dunney Low he a thoroughbred
Pouring out some coffee on the curb trying to wake the dead
