Chain Smoker

Still a chain smoking

Name dropping

Good looking

Muh' fucking

Motha, shut your mouth

Brain broken

Frank Ocean listening

Stain hitting, satin woodgrain gripping

Paint dripping

Motha, shut your mouth

Somebody pray for the God, oh lord

I wonder what Michael's on

Son jammin' to his shit

Rappin' trappin' trippin' 'cid

And sniffing glue and chewing Vicodin

Shoulda died- yelling YOLO was a lie

And you a liar wonder why you wanna die so young

You and I look just alike

And I'm afraid that this one right here

Might be the last time that I write a song

Lot of niggas wanna go out with a bang

But I ain't tryna go out at all

So I ain't tryna go out at all

Got a lot of ideas still to throw out the door

Last chance joint gotta be a dance joint

From an introspective drugged out standpoint

Throw bands joint, wanna hold hands joint

Old school for my own old man joint

Still a chain smoking

Name dropping

Good looking

Muh' fucking

Motha, shut your mouth

Brain broken

Frank Ocean listening

Stain hitting, satin woodgrain gripping

Paint dripping

Motha, shut your mouth

This part right here, right now

Right here, this part my shit

I play this so loud in the car

Forget to park my whip

I lean back, then spark my shit

I turn up, I talk my shit

Hope you love all of my shit

I hope you love all of my shit (IGH)

Why toss my filter when she saved my life?

The same shit that kills us, always taste so right

That's why I pray to the dear lord

God know who he be

Truth be told he juiced me

Introduced me to the lucy leaf

Oh oh oh, I seen the light, I lost my lighter

Big flip, kick to heaven and the bucket, fuck your supplier

Lies, Levis on fire

Flyer on the wall I'm brighter

In the darkness of the night

In the sky I get higher, higher

Still a chain smoking

Name dropping

Good looking

Muh' fucking

Motha, shut your mouth

Brain broken

Frank Ocean listening

Stain hitting, satin woodgrain gripping

Paint dripping

Motha, shut your mouth

This part right here, right now

Right here, this part my shit

I play this so loud in the car

Forget to park my whip

I lean back, then spark my shit

I turn up, I talk my shit

Hope you love all of my shit

I hope you love all of my shit (IGH)

Still a chain smoking

Name dropping

Good looking

Muh' fucking

Motha, shut your mouth

Brain broken

Frank Ocean listening

Stain hitting, satin woodgrain gripping

Paint dripping

Motha, shut your mouth