Wifey (Chosen One)

Yeah, ugh, for real Real boss shit mane, real Real boss shit mane, real (So, who's Chris Fuego?) Sittin' on a stack, eight-hundred dollar shoes on Bitch this is just what I'm on I ain't cappin', I'm just telling you how it is dawg I ain't really tryna get in with her friends dawg I just want her She the only one She my wifey, she the chosen one yeah I ain't kidding witcha, she my wifey, but it's not official, yeah, yeah Real boss shit I just put these folks on Real boss shit, my momma don't know what I'm on Momma, I'm sorry I can't come home Back home in a fucking Camry What you think I fucking rap for? Not for no Toyota, for a Land Rover My bitch sitting next to me, ass so fat, told her scoot over It feel like a movie, but it's never over I feel like I'm hardly ever, ever sober Matter fact, bitch I'm never sober Unngggaaaaahhhaaaaaaa What you doing with that shit? Take a step back, bitch What you doing with that shit? Drop it down, down, bitch Need a mill in the bank for a rainy day Right now where I stay it rain every day Bought a crib for my bitch just so she could stay… And she didn't stay Goddamn, right now I'm fucked up It hurts so much, I'ma roll another blunt Now she flexing on these hoes, stepping on these bitches Now she flexing on these hoes, stepping on these bitches My bitch made it out the gutter, yeah she from the trenches My bitch got them heels on, know she got them inches Help me get the bag, help me get them digits My bitch shoot with precision My bitch shoot with precision