Stackin' Chips

[Verse 1: Keak Da Sneak] All draped in teal Givin' 'em something they can feel You can call me the Man Of Steel Kryptonite couldn't kill Giving all reasons to chill Bumping Keep It On The Real And you blindfolded If you thought wasn't gone make it a mil' bitch Been trying to further since the sixth grade It's urgent that I get paid Flowamatic when my shit laid And representing that 3 Kray' Mind set on one thang (What's that?) That skrilla, scratch, two strikes head of the gate And just kick it like a skank Some suckers hate But not dem playa, man they love me And always got something to say [?] looking lovely Smelly Me, Big Ben and Charlie Rolling spiffy And spinning like the rear end of a nifty I strictly, take the [?] on me Hit the cock, something loud then I pass it to my homie Chicks be phony Paging me and B at the same time Seeing who'll call back first but [?] ain't mine I gots no time to wine and dine Cause once they've been on the phone it's just a waste of time Off the rine And blunts, them stunts be devastating [?] is out the window which is why the whole car fit [Hook] I'm trying to stack my chips (So I) Clock a grip (Then I) Make some hits (And I) Hate to snitch (So I) Sticks to scripts Hits my licks (It ain't nothing like them big head green dead presidents) [Verse 2: B.A.] [?] change your Franklins They don't take shits in the telly [?] and ready for fetti so bring the steak and spaghetti Niggas done let me Dig deep in they fucking grab bag Can't flip cause deep in they wallets is where my cash at I'm on a First come, first serve basis When I hit the casinos, I'm headed out Reno to Vegas Stacking potatoes No [?] to call the consequence Evident I'm about my scratch and I'm about to represent Through the crowd Freaking it loud with Omega Fresh out like Mike but coming back like the Raiders Uh, I kill 'em in my gators Just pimping and players Linens, cannoli's and Rollies, I'm headed straight to the tailors Give a fuck I'm in Vegas bitch So raise up the dank from Killa Cali To Bali, they feed us [?] and steaks These bitches beg us for plates So they touching sidewalks and bullies Better prepare for the schooling Never worry I'm overruling Don't talk till ya do it Plus pissy drunk off the fluid Hookers good looking the crooked looking for B.A. to do it? I can't wait for the mission to kill it Just getting skrilla from [?] stack millions 500 drop on the spot on top of the ceiling That's on the reala A pimp in my Fucking rhyme Like 'Ball and MJG make sure you call it like you see it Just a genius I know ya seen us In the wind So perving is just a matter of time before I do you in Off the gin, 500 Benz Got me sliding So bury the player haters and knock the game out the line [Hook] [Verse 3: Agerman] It's going down in the Bay Flossing cold cash around your area Thought you heard of a nigga that's stacking mo' chips Than the Bank Of America Dropping them bombs like a specialist Finger eager to kill 'em all up Murderous mind, no misdemeanor Listen to the bark of my nine go "buck" Sparking off the krazyomatic Sparking up my bluntomatic Stacking chips up in the attic Buck 'em every time with the Flowamatic Get ready to get dusted Fill up the bag with all your cash or catch a blast No bluff we busting So run everybody gon' do math by A.G.E This sick-o-path Wait till your body shoot through running your mouth Hit 'em up with the pump then put him in the trunk with the bump Crazy, mistreat that ass, I'm [?] catching a blast Talking like some loud mouth bastard Is enough to have that ass subtracted They claiming they be jacking But I'm a tell you niggas be acting when they rapping Got shit full blown that's backwards Prolly got a lil' strap but scared to bust a strap Come around my way busting strap Nigga I'm talking 'bout busting back Results of this money and the power Making about a G an hour Running machines around this bitch and buck to ya cowards And I ain't forgot about what you said ho Nigga you'll come up missing from that lead smoke Cap that ass, 'fore we mack that ass, another dead foe Hit him up, get him up, pick him up I pop my trunk, no need for that ambulance That boy ain't getting up Call the coroner to pick him up Zip him up, split him up, technical chopping the funk Got big enough fucking with [?] [?] get sick enough Gotta get my cash like Mitchell Get your cats before they get you It's clear as the picture in my 600 Benz That I'm out for my dead presidents [Hook]