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Chuuwee – 8 Or 9 AM: Monday Morning / CRC Assessment lyrics
[Hook]
They girlfriends love me, so I'm steady in they tummy
Like they late for an appointment, these bitches saying they coming
Nigga getting money, no need to look at me funny
On my Qualiman shit, so these hookers jocking my Dougie
[Verse 1]
Booth is like a ballot box and I'm the one they checking for
I'm the one that they stressing over this shit inside my dresser drawer
Fresh to death, fresh as shit, and I might need and exorcist
They way these bitches heads spin from entrance when exit this impressive whip
With niggas fresher, so that's why they show me extra skin
That shit's impressive bitch
I know it's bigger in the South, but keep my name up out your mouth
Baby get up off of my Texas dick
Above sea level when I be mic checking this
Check it, fuck the pressure shawty, I ain't big on that stressing shit
I just blow on that stress and piff, puff and pass, Jetson shit
T.U.S. or vasectomy or have anal sex with an elephant
And I'm just spittin for the hell of it
These hoes draw me fan signs to tell me that they love the way I ride
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
But I don't answer calls, the ringer off
Speedin down the fast lane, one way, blinkers off
Promise you some of these artists really need to pause
Before you nigga dropped it, I don't think you even think at all
And I be moonwalking, leaning, overdosing trees
Blowing Z's of indo til I feel as though I won't breathe
In a comatose sleep, I'm walking in a dream
Your baddest bitch to me is at least a low three
Keep it G, you niggas at a stand still
Your whole crew is garbage as fuck, landfill
Your girl P poppin on a handstand
Panties drop quicker than a heavy ass anvil
I am real, better yet, I am trill
That's why the fuck I understand why you hate it, yeah
Louis bags shittin on your fake grills
That's why I'm always ballin, even when I gotta pay the bills
Go tell that ho that I'm a Trojan
Even Sparta couldn't fuck with me once I started blowing
I'm a dog, bitch I'm all up in your walls
Better keep your friends away
Or there a chance that I'm gon' get up in them all, all of y'all
I'm just saying, as long as you turn the drama off
And make the marijuana calls and you could ride with us tomorrow
Bitch
They girlfriends love me, so I'm steady in they tummy
Like a nigga getting money, wait, fuck
It's too early for this shit
They girlfriends love me, so I'm steady in they tummy
Like they late for an appointment, these bitches saying they coming
Nigga getting money, no need to look at me funny
On my Qualiman shit, so these hookers jocking my Dougie
[Verse 1]
Booth is like a ballot box and I'm the one they checking for
I'm the one that they stressing over this shit inside my dresser drawer
Fresh to death, fresh as shit, and I might need and exorcist
They way these bitches heads spin from entrance when exit this impressive whip
With niggas fresher, so that's why they show me extra skin
That shit's impressive bitch
I know it's bigger in the South, but keep my name up out your mouth
Baby get up off of my Texas dick
Above sea level when I be mic checking this
Check it, fuck the pressure shawty, I ain't big on that stressing shit
I just blow on that stress and piff, puff and pass, Jetson shit
T.U.S. or vasectomy or have anal sex with an elephant
And I'm just spittin for the hell of it
These hoes draw me fan signs to tell me that they love the way I ride
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
But I don't answer calls, the ringer off
Speedin down the fast lane, one way, blinkers off
Promise you some of these artists really need to pause
Before you nigga dropped it, I don't think you even think at all
And I be moonwalking, leaning, overdosing trees
Blowing Z's of indo til I feel as though I won't breathe
In a comatose sleep, I'm walking in a dream
Your baddest bitch to me is at least a low three
Keep it G, you niggas at a stand still
Your whole crew is garbage as fuck, landfill
Your girl P poppin on a handstand
Panties drop quicker than a heavy ass anvil
I am real, better yet, I am trill
That's why the fuck I understand why you hate it, yeah
Louis bags shittin on your fake grills
That's why I'm always ballin, even when I gotta pay the bills
Go tell that ho that I'm a Trojan
Even Sparta couldn't fuck with me once I started blowing
I'm a dog, bitch I'm all up in your walls
Better keep your friends away
Or there a chance that I'm gon' get up in them all, all of y'all
I'm just saying, as long as you turn the drama off
And make the marijuana calls and you could ride with us tomorrow
Bitch
They girlfriends love me, so I'm steady in they tummy
Like a nigga getting money, wait, fuck
It's too early for this shit
Lyrics taken from
/chuuwee-8_or_9_am_monday_morning_crc_assessment-1689043.html
